Hierarchy
by the morrighan
Summary: Not all orders are meant to be obeyed.
1. Chapter 1

Hierarchy

Gold.

Moira Sheppard was staring at the color. At the gold wedding band she had removed from her finger. She turned it round and round, staring at the brilliant metal. The lights bouncing off it, causing the gold to sparkle, to shine. She could discern the Gaelic words engraved on the inside of the ring. _Gra anois agus godeo. _Love now and forever. She sighed. Turned it round and round again. It felt odd to have the ring off her finger. As if she was severing the connection to her husband. As if the mere removal of a piece of jewelry could erase him from her mind, from her heart. She sighed again. Briefly touched the baby bump concealed under her bulky blue sweater. Very tangible evidence of their union.

She raised the ring to the light. To gaze through the circle, like a miniature Stargate. She stared as the circle was filled by John Sheppard. Was overwhelmed by the black of his t-shirt as he stepped through the doorway and approached her.

John stared at his wife as she sat at a computer console. The soft glow of blue and green walls surrounded her. Water bubbled in the Lantean decorations. The soft hum of power purred at his feet as he neared. She wore the bulky blue sweater, hiding her curves. Concealing her pregnancy. Her long brown hair was tied back from her pensive face. She was holding up her wedding ring like an offering. Or a rejection. "Moira?" he asked, standing near her. His gaze flicked to the computer screen. Back to her. "Something you want to tell me?"

"Huh?" He indicated the ring. "Oh. No." She hesitated, a smirk on her lips. She slipped it back onto her finger. "I was just thinking." She turned to the computer screen.

"Thinking? Of what?" He stepped closer, touched her shoulders. Eyed the screen as she brought up a star chart. "Moira? Migratory patterns?"

"Yes. John...I'm close." She turned to him as he released her shoulders. "Real close. You, you can't send me away. Not when I'm this close, John. Okay?"

"No. I've decided, Moira. Not now, but soon. It's the only way to keep both you and the baby safe. Too much is at stake. Hell, I can't even keep you safe in the city, much less out there. So I'm going to make the arrangements for–"

"No. No! John, I won't go! You can't–"

"I can and I will, Moira! So...how close are you to–"

"No!" She stood, shoving the chair out of her way. "John! I won't go! You do keep me safe! Here and out there! There's no reason to send me away! None! Unless, unless you want to be rid of me! Is that it? Are you tired of me, John? Tired of your pregnant wife?"

"Of course not, Moira, don't be silly," he reasoned, frowning. "How close are you to identifying the location of that planet? Moira?"

She glared. Turned away from him, feeling sick. "I'm not telling you." She shut down the computer. "It's locked to my password. And I'll never tell you that either."

"I'll just have McKay crack it, Moy. Not a problem. So just tell me."

"No." She felt a surge of tears. Fought them. Touched her stomach as a queasiness assaulted. The thought of leaving John, of being so far from him like an injury. A permanent severing of his affections.

"Fine. I'm not changing my mind, Moira, no matter what you say or do. It's for the best. I'm doing this for you and for my son."

"For yourself, you mean," she muttered darkly. Refusing to face him.

"Fine," he repeated. "You think what you want, but you know the truth. I'm making the arrangements so you better decide what to take with you and what to leave behind. And keep that damn ring on your finger, baby, because it doesn't belong anywhere else. I want that intel before you leave." He hesitated, voice harsh as his own reluctance hit him. Knew he was hurting her but couldn't see any other way. Without another word he spun on his heels, left the room.

Just in time as Moira whirled, lurched and promptly vomited all over the floor.

"John! John!" Rodney McKay ran towards his friend, slowing to a jog as John reluctantly paused in the hallway. "I've found something. A glitch, well, a power surge. Here." He displayed his data pad. A grid of the city. "Down two levels. It's very discreet, but there's a power surge where no power should be. A restricted zone, a place we haven't even been able to access much less–"

"Bio two. It's all right. I authorized it," John recognized. Lied smoothly.

Rodney met his gaze, startled. "Excuse me? Bio who? What? I'm telling you, John, this part of the city hasn't been cleared for any kind of activity or research. We couldn't get the systems to initialize and we Moira." Realizing he stared. John briskly nodded. Rodney frowned. "Well, why didn't you say so? Wait! She initialized this? It's up and running?"

"Yes. I needed her to pursue something away from the main labs. Why?"

"Why? You ask why?" Rodney shook his head. "Well, for one thing this means that I have to start all over checking any discrepancies in the mission rosters and systems since this isn't a marker. More importantly it means that Moira is able to access systems we can't. That her double gene is able to activate whole sections of the city that heretofore have remained dormant."

"Heretofore?" John asked, moving down the hallway.

"Yes! Oh sorry! My Canadian education is showing," Rodney snapped to John's mockery. "John, we need her! I need her! We could open up whole new sections, whole new labs! John, we could potentially bring this city to the same capacity it once held when the Ancients were here! We could operate all kinds of–"

"Potentially. And the answer is no," he said, halting his friend's enthusiasm with a dour tone.

"What? Why? She's–"

"Leaving, so even if she does initiate any new systems she won't be here to operate them," John explained, glaring. The words spoken out loud made them official. Cold.

Rodney stared, taken aback. "Excuse me? She's...huh?"

John ignored him. Ignored his own anger, his reluctance. The twisting regret in his gut as he strode along the hallway. His grim expression clearing the way as people parted. Marines straightened.

"John!" Rodney hastened after him. "What the hell do you mean she's leaving? What, you're going to ship Moira off now that you've gotten what you wanted from her?"

John whirled so fast that Rodney almost bumped into him. He froze, but did not take a step back from his friend. Facing him defiantly. Stubbornly. John's gaze narrowed. He forced down his flash of temper, of fury. "No. I am sending her to safety, where she and the baby can be perfectly safe and secure and not in constant danger!"

"Seriously? You think she'll be better off alone on Earth raising a baby by herself then here with you and me?"

"She won't be by herself, she–"

"Really? As I recall she has no family, except an uncle in Ireland and an awful curmudgeon of an aunt, or so you said."

"She won't be alone, and I'll be with her as soon as..."

"As soon as what? Things settle down here? Yeah, right. You'd ship off your wife and your kid without so much as a thought, would you?"

"No! It's not like that! I'm doing it for–"

"Yourself, sounds like!" Rodney argued, uncountably angry. "You have everything, John, and now you're just going to throw it all away? Idiot." He shoved past his friend, leaving John to stare after him. Startled by the vehemence, the anger.

Moira shyly entered the infirmary. She walked slowly towards Carson Beckett, who was busily engaged in cataloging a list of supplies. Pen moving along a clipboard as he ticked off what was needed and what was not. She touched the baby bump, dropped her hand to her side as he turned to her. Smiled.

"Moira, love, I was just going to...what's wrong?" His blue eyes studied her.

"I...I don't know, Carson. I got, I got sick. Threw up all over the lab. I couldn't stop it. I don't feel sick but, but...I feel...uneasy. I..something's wrong with the baby."

"What? Nonsense! Here, love." He took her arm, guided her to a bed. "Lay back and relax. I'll take a scan and we'll see how wee Sheppard is doing this morning. Do you want me to send for John?"

"No! No," she softened her voice. "Just check, please." She settled back on the bed. Opened her heavy sweater. Tense. Worried.

Carson ran the scanner over her. "Relax, love. We've all been through quite a lot recently. Very recently. But we're all fine. Only minor injuries. And no more nightmares. There we are." He checked the scanner. "The baby is fine. Steady heartbeat. Developing nicely. It's not the baby. He's in no distress whatsoever. It must be you, Moira. What's wrong? The last thing you need is stress. And you need to eat."

Moira sighed. She sat, relieved. Closed the sweater over her. "I...John."

"John?" Carson inquired.

"He.." She felt tears, clutched the sweater around her. "He, he doesn't love me any more."

"What? Nonsense, Moira." Carson sat near her on the bed. Took her hand into his. Patted it gently. "I've never seen a man more in love than John is with–"

"Not now. He, he wants to send me to Earth. Now, not later when I have the baby as we agreed. But now! To send me away. He, he says it's to protect me, to keep me safe, to keep the baby safe, but what if there is more? I mean, I mean, he doesn't really want a, a pregnant wife now does he? Soon, soon I'll be so big he won't want me. Oh sure, he wants me now, he can't seem to get enough of me but soon...he wants me out of the way for some, some slender blonde woman who isn't pregnant or emotional or stressed I know it!"

Carson tried not to smile as tears filled her eyes. "Now, love, you know perfectly well none of that is true. He only wants you, Moira. Now and probably up until the birth of the baby, knowing John. There's no blonde waiting in the wings. As for Earth, that's utter nonsense. You will be much safer here with your husband and your friends until you go there for the birth. There's no need for you to leave Atlantis."

"I, I told him that but he won't listen! He won't! Once he makes up his mind there's no shifting it! Which proves that he doesn't love me!" She sighed, wiped her eyes. "Sorry! These damn hormones. I mean, I know he loves me but he, he wants to send me away and I can't go. I won't go, Carson! I won't!" She eyed him fiercely. Brown eyes sparking with determination.

"No, you won't, Moira," Carson agreed. "Rest assured. As your doctor it is my direct order that you remain here in Atlantis. Now, why don't you go lie down for awhile, hmm? Then have some lunch. You need to eat properly. For the baby. You're not going anywhere, Moira, I promise you."

She relaxed. "Okay, Carson. I...sorry. I..."

"Go on, love. Relax. Everything will be fine."


	2. Chapter 2

Hierarchy2

John sat in the cafeteria, scowling at his food. With a muttered curse he shoved his plate aside, looked up as Ronon Dex joined him. Stared at him, expression accusing. "What?" John snapped at the Satedan's silent appraisal.

"Nothing." Ronon took a big bite. Chewed. Swallowed. "Word is you're being an ass."

John nearly spit out the water he was drinking. He forcibly swallowed. "Come again?"

"You heard. Rodney was going on about how you–"

"Excuse me, Ronon," Carson interjected, voice terse. "Colonel Sheppard, you are a selfish bastard, did you know that?"

"Yeah," Ronon agreed.

John looked from one to the other. "What the hell is this?"

"I don't know what sort of nonsense you've been telling Moira but it ends now," Carson said sternly, glancing at Ronon who nodded in agreement.

"I'm not following you," John evaded. Frowned.

"Oh please, John! Stop threatening your wife! She doesn't need the added stress right now!"

"You threatened her?" Ronon asked, straightening in the chair. He made an imposing figure, even seated.

"No! I never threatened her!" John retorted.

"You threatened to send her to Earth, didn't you?" Carson argued.

"Oh. That. Yes."

"Yes? Why would you send her to–" Ronon asked.

"To protect her! To make absolutely sure she is protected! That my son is protected! She is going whether she likes it or not!" John stated, hating to be on the defensive as his friends glowered at him.

"No. She's not going."

"Carson, it's not your decision."

"It is, colonel. Moira is my patient and under my care. Don't be an ass, John! She's perfectly safe right here."

"Excuse me? Did you forget what just happened here? In the city! If I can't even protect her here how the hell can I–"

"You did protect her," Ronon corrected.

"You really believe she will be safer on Earth, all alone and pregnant without you? I won't let you do it," Carson decided.

"I'd like to see you try and stop me," John refuted stubbornly.

"I'll stop you," Ronon stated. Voice low. John met his gaze for a moment.

Carson slammed his hand on the table, startling both men and breaking their ominous glare. "Damn it, man! You are doing more damage yourself than any threat here! She got sick, did you know that? Sick from the stress and was afraid there was something wrong with the baby! There's not," he assured seeing the sudden alarm on John's face, "but there could be if you keep placing her under all of this emotional duress! Is that what you want? Do you want her to lose the baby, is that it?"

"No! For God's sake, Carson, no! I'm trying to protect her!" John exclaimed.

"Then protect her from yourself, man! Don't send her away! She needs you! Not to be separated from you by an entire galaxy! She thinks you don't want her, don't love her, did you know that? Because right now her hormones are all over the board, so her emotions are the same! And you adding unnecessary stress to that makes it worse! Worse for her and the baby! If your objective was to hurt both of them then mission accomplished!"

"Carson! God damn it, Carson, I never–"

"Ease up on her, man!" Carson continued, his tirade unabated by John's protests. "And ease up on your own paranoia and guilt or you will not only lose her but the baby as well!"

John stared as the doctor abruptly left. Shocked. He glanced at Ronon who stood. Glaring at him before he too left. John was alone. People were staring at him. He scowled. Hating to have his private life on display for all to see. To judge.

He stood. Exited the cafeteria with long, angry strides.

Moira sniffed. Wiped her eyes. She sat on the bed, touching the baby bump as she set down her pack. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know where else to go. It's only for a little while, until I–"

"Nonsense!" Katie Brown smiled, sat near. Engulfed her friend in a hug. "You are welcome to bunk with me as long as you need, Moira. Don't be silly! You'll be fine here. Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Moira sighed as Katie stood. "I just have to take some drastic measures so that stubborn, pigheaded husband of mine will see reason."

"He will, Moira. Don't worry. Sometimes men are so thick you have to take a hammer to them, don't you?"

Moira laughed. "Yes, you do, sometimes."

"I'll be in botany if you need anything. Relax." She paused. "Moira...is there...I mean...is there something seriously wrong? I mean...if John has hurt you or–"

"No! Of course not, Katie! John would never hurt me," she assured. "We just...we just are having a disagreement. And he won't see sense. But he will. He...will," she insisted. "I just need to be away from him for a little while. I need to, um, look after the, the baby."

"Oh. Of course, Moira. You had me worried there. I never thought John would hurt you or anything, but you are so upset."

"Hormones," she explained, shrugged. Looked at her hands. Unwilling to say more. She turned her wedding ring round and round on her finger.

"All right, if you're sure. Relax, Moira. Things will work themselves out, they always do."

"Thanks." Moira sighed after Katie had left. She looked round the room. It was neat. Tidy. Plants lined one shelf. Books on botany. She shifted on the bed. Found it uncomfortable. Not nearly as welcoming or spacious as her bed. The bed she shared with John. She fished around in her pack. Produced a candy bar and began to eat it, thoughts tangling over her husband.

John entered his quarters, froze in his tracks. The room appeared disordered. The bed messy. A pillow was missing. He saw a drawer open on the dresser. Crossed to it and found it empty. He entered the bathroom. Her things were missing. He ran a hand through his hair, momentarily baffled. He knew she couldn't have gone very far. Was torn between amusement and concern. Scowling he checked the bio two lab. The bio lab. The Wraith lab. All were devoid of Moira. Finally he entered the botany lab. Strode to Katie as she was watering some ferns. "Doctor Brown." He paused, his sudden, harsh tone almost making her drop the watering can. "Sorry. Do you know where Moira is?"

"Yes."

He waited, but she said nothing else. He was thrown by the curt answer from the normally effusive woman. "And? Where is she?" he finally asked.

Katie glanced at him. "My quarters. I don't know what happened between the two of you but she has moved in with me."

"What? Moira's moved in?" he asked, torn between anger and amusement. But Katie was serious. Stern, even, as she met his gaze again.

"Yes, colonel. If you'll excuse me I have work to do."

"Take me there. I need to see her."

"No." She moved past him.

John stared. "No?"

"No. You've really upset her. The last thing you should be doing is upsetting Moira! She's pregnant!"

"I noticed," he laconically stated, earning a scowl from the botanist. "Look, we had a, a slight disagreement, that's all. Look," he continued, following her along the rows of plants, "I need to talk to her. I won't upset her. Please, Doctor Brown. I need to talk to her. She's my wife."

"I noticed," Katie said, causing John to briefly smile at the unexpected quip. "But do you, colonel? Notice how you have really upset her?" She turned to him at last, gaze assessing.

John felt like a recalcitrant schoolboy facing a teacher. He pouted. "Yes...I have now. I need to talk to her, okay? No raised voices or anger."

Katie debated. "All right. But if you do start to yell at her I will throw you out myself. This way."

Moira was seated on the bed. She was working on her laptop, balancing the computer on her folded legs. The pillow from her room supporting her back as she pressed up against the wall.

She heard voices. Recognized John's. She closed the laptop, slid it into her pack and swung her legs to the edge of the bed as the door opened. "Katie, I was only kidding about the choc–"

John entered the room. Raised a brow. Seeing the pack. The pillow. Watched her awkwardly move to her feet, closing the sweater around her. "You never kid about chocolate, Moira."

"Sorry, Moira! He insisted!" Katie explained, joining them.

"Leave us a moment," John said. Glanced at her. "I said leave us," he repeated sternly.

"John! You can't order Katie out of her own room! She's not one of your damn marines!"

"It's all right, Moira. I'll be right outside." Katie glanced at John. "Right outside." With a warning glare she left.


	3. Chapter 3

Hierarchy3

John stood looking at Moira. Silent, assessing. Gaze wandering along her curves hidden by the bulky blue sweater. His eyes paused where he knew the baby bump to be. Roved back to her pale face, defiant expression. Sorrow. "Are you all right? I heard you were sick."

"Fine."

He waited, but she was silent. He frowned. "Moira, what the hell are you doing here? You can't run away from home, you know."

"Oh, but I can, John. What does look like? I'm moving in, at least temporarily. Until I can arrange a room for myself."

"Stop this now!" He stepped to her. Grabbed the pack. "Point taken. Let's go."

"No." She snatched the pack from him, dropped it onto the bed. Folded her arms under her breasts. "Since you don't want me I won't burden you with my presence in our–"

"Don't be ridiculous, Moira! Of course I want you. Now let's go–"

"No. I 'm not moving back until you give me your word, John. Because you never break your word. Do you?"

"No, I never do. My word on what, Moira?" he asked, although he could guess.

"That you won't send me to Earth before we go together for the birth of John junior."

"I can't do that, Moira. If I deem there is a serious or significant threat to you I will send you to Earth. You don't have to go now, okay? But you will if I decide it is necessary."

"Not good enough."

"What? Come on, Moira!" he flared, "it's a fair compromise. I need to keep you safe, and I can't even do that in the fucking city let alone in the–"

"Damn it, John, you did keep me safe! Or as I remember it I kept you safe! Your fine, fine six, colonel, was in more danger than mine! So no, colonel. Your word that you will not send me to Earth before we both go. Or I'm staying right here."

"Damn it, Moy, don't be so stubborn! I can't give you my word because in all likelihood I will break it. And I won't lie to you. Not ever."

"I appreciate that, John. But until you can give me your word I am going to live here now. And there is no way you will be get me out of this city and out of this galaxy." She held his stare with her own. Just as stubborn. Unmovable.

"Fine," he finally responded. "If that's how you want it, Moira. Live here. I can still send that pert little ass of yours to Earth whenever I want!"

"No! I won't go, colonel! If you want a divorce you know where to find me!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Moira!" He sighed. "Is it any wonder I didn't want to be married again?"

"All I need is your word, John."

"You can't have it. I can't budge on this, Moira. I can't." He touched her pale cheek, tenderly brushed a tendril of hair from her face. "Besides," he added laconically, smile on his handsome face, "you won't last a single night here. No...you'll be running back to our bed. To my arms. You know you can't resist me." He kissed her. A slow, seductive kiss. "That's the last taste of John Sheppard you will have until you come to your senses, baby. And obey me," he added with a glint of mischief in his brilliant green eyes.

She frowned. Batted his hand away from her. "Really, John? I see. Well, colonel, I'll survive somehow. I don't know how you'll survive, though. All alone in that big, cold bed. With no way to deploy your considerable ordnance. At least not the way you did last night, sweetie. I won't budge either, and I sure as hell won't obey you."

He smiled. Amused, aroused by her anger, her defiance. "Fine. Stalemate. I'll be waiting for you, baby. However you want me."

"John! This isn't about sex! It's about you sending me away when there's no reason! At least no reason you'll admit!"

"You know my reason. My only reason. You want to live here? Fine. I'm still your husband. I'm still your military commander. I'm still your–"

"I'm not one of your damn marines so stop trying to order me like one!" she flared. "Get out! Now!" She pointed at the door.

"Fine, your highness. I'll go. Enjoy your new quarters. Your cold, lonely little bed."

"Go!" He smiled. Strode out of the room, nearly knocking into Katie who stumbled back from him in alarm. "Make sure she's eating and keeping her food down. And relaxes. And rests. If there's anything wrong, I mean anything have me paged immediately."

"Of course, colonel," Katie assured. Watched him leave. She entered the room. "Moira? Are you all right?"

Moira sat on the bed, hugging herself. "Yes. I...he's so damn stubborn!" She sighed. "Damn him! Well, I can be just as obstinate as he is! I can be...oh shit!" She rose, hastened to the bathroom. Quickly fell to her knees and retched over the toilet, but nothing came up.

"Moira! Moira, are you all right? Should I send for Carson?"

"No!" Moira straightened, once she was sure nothing was coming up out of her. She returned, sat on the bed. "My stomach is just upset, is all. Don't bother Carson. I think I'll take a little nap and try to relax."

"If you're sure...okay," Katie relented at her friend's nod. "I'll check back with you in an hour, okay? Take it easy, Moira. He'll come round. Soon he'll be begging you to come back to him."

Moira snorted. "I doubt that. All I need is his word, damn him! Unless he really does want to get rid of me."

"Of course he doesn't, Moira! Calm down," Katie soothed, sitting near as Moira curled onto her side, trying to stop the flow of tears.

"Sorry! I know...I...damn hormones!"

Katie patted her shoulder. "Take it easy, Moira. You have to relax, for yourself and for the baby. John will come around."

John pushed aside his half-empty plate. His appetite had faded. Mulling over the argument with Moira. Her stubborn stance. Her suspicion over his reasons when there was no need to be even remotely suspicious. Her seeming doubt of his love, his fidelity. He scowled. Worried over her health. The health of the baby she was carrying. He sighed. Watched as Rodney joined him, tray overflowing with food. "Any progress?"

"Huh? Oh, hello to you, John. How are you this afternoon? Me, why thanks for asking. I've been busy on several projects and only now had time to grab a bite to eat."

"Rodney," John warned, not in the mood.

"I presume you mean trying to reconstruct the Impulse Blocker? The answer is no. Not yet, to be specific. Are you going to eat that pudding?"

"No. Have at it. And?"

Rodney grabbed the side dish, placed it near his tray. "And until I have the exact crystals to match the exact schematics I can't do a thing. I created a model and it's only a model without the requisite crystals but I think, no, I know I can power it up with the Ancient tech or ours but probably theirs as I am jerry-rigging the thing to the Ancient tech. Or Moira can, but since you are shipping her off like so much useless baggage I guess I will need another super powered–"

"I am not shipping her off, and don't talk about her like that!" John snapped.

"Right now I am scanning the data base to see if any crystals like that or any comparable ones can be found on any other planets apart from the one we can't go to. The aliens, remember? We can't go there, but there must be crystals like that somewhere."

"You are?"

"Well, Zelenka is," Rodney admitted as John's observation. "I'm too busy balancing the equations and fixing up the model so it will work properly once it can work properly."

"You are?" John quipped.

"Yes, well, I was! Even I need to eat once in a while!"

"Once in a while?"

"Colonel," Carson intervened before Rodney could reply, "I trust you have resolved the issue?"

John glanced at the doctor. Glanced at Rodney who was watching. "Um...not exactly." He eyed his food suddenly.

"What does not exactly mean, John?" Carson asked. Voice stern.

"It's, um, complicated, Carson. She wants–"

"She doesn't want to go. So she doesn't go. Simple, really," the doctor argued.

"No, it's not." John met Carson's gaze. "She wants my word I won't send her to Earth before we both go together."

"So? Give it."

"I can't. Because if I deem there's a threat to her I will send her to Earth," John explained. Becoming uncomfortable under the disapproving gaze of the normally placid doctor.

"So? Give it anyway. What's the big deal?" Rodney chimed in, ignored John's quick glare.

"I never break my word. And I won't lie to Moira."

"Come on! You've never lied to her? You've never lied to a woman?" Rodney scoffed.

"Yes, Rodney, of course I've lied to a woman. Several women. But not to Moira. Not ever."

"That's very admirable, John. But you need to find a way to remedy this now. Moira doesn't need any kind of stress, and being apart from you is stressful for her. Being at odds with you is worse."

John sighed. "She's the one who moved out! She's the one who is being stubborn and refuses even a compromise over the–"

"She moved out? Wow! John, she's pregnant!" Rodney exclaimed.

"I know!" John retorted irritably. "Why does everyone keep telling me that? I know! I'm the one who impregnated her, damn it!" He swallowed, his raised voice causing heads to turn in his direction. He felt a faint blush on his cheeks. "Well, I did. She's my wife," he mumbled. "And she doesn't mean it. She's trying to prove a point, that's all," he grumbled.

"And you just let her. Brilliant move, John!" Carson chastised, shaking his head. "She's pregnant, John!"

"I know!" he said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Then take care of her, man! Get her back into your rooms now, today, John! That's an order!"

"I tried, but she–"

"I don't care. Try harder! You shower that woman with love, with chocolate, with whatever makes her happy, damn it! You give her your word and you mean it! You reconcile with her and keep her happy and relaxed or I swear I will send you to Earth!"

"Wow," Rodney commented as Carson left them. "Wow...I've never seen him in such a state. John...you better make nice with Moira. She's pregnant, you know."

"I know!"


	4. Chapter 4

Hierarchy4

Moira sighed, closed the book she had been absently reading. She looked over as Katie entered. "Katie, look, I can go someplace else, I mean I can sleep in another–"

"Nonsense! Don't move!" Katie refused, stopping her friend's awkward motion off the bed. "Relax, Moira. You are more than welcome here. How do you feel?"

"Fine. No troubles with dinner," she assured. "Thank you."

"Good. I told John as much but I wanted to be sure."

"You told..."

"Yes." Katie sat next to her, smiled. "He's been asking after you all day, Moira. Every time I turn around there he is, making sure you are relaxing. Resting. Calm. Keeping your food down.

Asking if you need anything. Reminding me that you are pregnant, as if I didn't know. Reminding me that you need an extra pillow for your back. He's so sweet," she gushed, "and so worried about you. I don't think he's mad any more."

Moira smiled. "Sweet? Oh, he's still mad. If he really cared he'd give his word and take me back. Stubborn man."

"He only wants to protect you, Moira. Think of the stress he is under. Protecting you, your baby. The entire city."

"I know." Moira sighed. "I just...I won't leave him. I can't. I need to be with him, Katie! I can't...I can't go through this alone. The, the pregnancy."

"Have you told him that?"

"Well, no. Um, um, he should know."

"Does he? Unless you tell him he probably doesn't. Men are pretty clueless, you know." The two women laughed.

"That is true," Moira concurred.

Katie stood. "I've got some work to do in the lab. If you want to go to bed go right ahead."

"Thanks. You're a good friend."

John paced, paced in their room. Glanced at the empty, big bed. The space where the pillow should have been. He eyed the empty chair at the table. The lack of the laptop amid the roses. Silently cursed. Debating. Debating. Deciding. He crossed to his room. A smile formed as he plotted, planned.

Swinging a pack over his shoulder he headed for Katie's quarters. Stood eying the door. Raised his hand to knock. Hit the door with a polite, almost hesitant noise.

Moira looked at the door. "Katie? It's okay. Come in. I haven't gone to bed yet. I was just about to look for that article on–"

"Good." John entered. Closed the door. He moved to her as she sat on the bed. His gaze studying her for any sign of distress, of illness.

"John? What are you doing?" she asked as he dropped the pack he held onto the floor.

"I guess I'll take the floor since you girls will want the bed." A smirk crossed his handsome face. "It's sounds like a bad seventies porno, baby, but oh well."

"Huh? John, what are you doing?" she repeated, baffled. Watched as he squatted, rummaged in the pack. Rubbed his chin. The scruff on his chin, his jaw.

"What's it look like, Moy? Moving in."

She smiled, but said sternly, "You have a perfectly good set of rooms and a lovely, big bed, colonel. There's no room for you here."

"My wife lives here now. That means I live here now." He looked up at her. "Unless she has come to her senses?"

"Do I have your word?"

"No."

She frowned. "Then no." She grabbed her pack. "Hope you like the floor, colonel!" She entered the bathroom, shut the door.

John smiled at her anger, her exasperation. Plotted. He was actually enjoying the game, the chase. The seduction. Anticipating her reactions. Quickly he undressed. Put on a woven green shirt. Left it unbuttoned, invitingly open. He pulled on a pair of boxer shorts, the ones with the legend _Property of Doctor Moira Sheppard. _He sprawled on the floor, on his stomach. Pretended to work on a data pad as he waited for her.

Moira lingered. Hoping John would leave. Hoping he would stay. Angered. Amused. Wondering what he was up to, what plan his devious mind had concocted to get her back into their rooms. She smiled, felt a thrill of anticipation. Also anxiety. Knew she wouldn't budge unless he gave the assurances she needed. His word. She pulled on a pale green nightshirt. Smoothed the clingy material over her curves. Touched the baby bump. Sighed. She opened the door. Stepped out of the bathroom gingerly, as if afraid to disturb him.

Moira stared. He was on the floor. The back of his head bowed over the data pad. His dark brown hair disordered. The nape of his neck bare. The woven green shirt riding up to reveal his bare back. The boxer shorts. Bare legs. Bare feet. She eyed the shorts. The words over his firm rear. She smirked. "Damn right, sweetie! Don't you dare forget it!"

He smiled. "Never, baby." He rolled lazily onto his side, letting the shirt fall open to give her a generous view of his naked chest, waist. Stared. "Oh fuck..." His gaze roved over her loose hair. The nightshirt clinging to every curve, every dip and swell. Sheer between her legs as she moved. No panties to block his view. She turned away from him, leaned over to adjust the blankets. The nightshirt rode up, hugging her curvaceous rear tightly. "Ah fuck, Moira," he complained, praised. Shifted as his body reacted. "What a fucking delectable angle."

"Hilarious, John. I'm only wearing this because I'm hot," she stated primly.

He snorted. "Yeah, right. You are hot, baby. Fucking hot."

She smiled. Straightened. Turned and sat on the bed. Leaned over to give him a teasing view of the swells of her breasts as the neckline of the nightshirt gaped open. His unbuttoned shirt gave her a generous view of his chest, his waist. The shorts were tight across his crotch, clearly revealing his interest and response to her. "Hmm...colonel, you had better put that big, hard ordnance away. You will scare Katie with that thing."

He laughed. Licked his lips slowly, making his bottom lip wet. "Is that so, baby? Why don't you come down here and deploy it for me?"

Moira shifted, straightening. Reacting to his husky voice. She scooted to the edge of the bed. Spread her legs. "Not until I have your word, sweetie."

He stared up at her. Her bare thighs. Leading him towards her crotch until the fabric of the nightshirt intervened, blocking his view. "Ah baby, that's not fair. Not at all."

"And that is?" She pointed at him. "You're laid out like a fucking buffet, John."

He laughed. Stretched languidly, showing off his muscles, biceps. "Then come nibble me, baby. I'm on the menu tonight. Of course, the only way you will get a taste of John Sheppard is to move back to our rooms. Our bed." He reached over, ran a finger along her ankle. "Tell me, baby, are you wearing any panties under there? Bet they're fucking drenched."

She shifted at his touch, his low voice causing a shiver along her skin. So sensual, so intimate. "That's classified intel, sweetie. Tell me, is it rock hard yet?" she asked sweetly.

"About to burst, baby. Almost at full salute."

"Almost, colonel?" she teased. "Guess I will have to find a long, hard popsicle to suck, then," she said softly. Stood. Stepped slowly over him, giving him an eyeful.

John stared up at her, groaned. He caught her ankles, stopping her, staring up at the bare skin under the nightshirt, the dark triangle of hair beckoning. "Ah fuck, baby...commando? You are trying to kill me," he complained gruffly. "If you need something hard to suck I've got it right here, baby. Right here...oh fuck..."

Moira was staring down at him. His passionate gaze catching her. His low, sultry voice. His gentle hands on her ankles, keeping her in place. "John...oh John..." She squatted on him abruptly, making him moan. She leaned down and kissed him. "One taste, sweetie."

"More." He pulled her down to him, kissing her passionately. Tongue swirling into her mouth. But she freed herself, sat up to gyrate on his thigh. Sliding over his jutting erection.

"No, John. Your word."

"I can give you my cock, baby," he countered.

She frowned. Shifted and caught hold of him. "I don't want your fucking cock, colonel! I want your word!"

"Like hell you don't," he stated tersely. Groaned as she squeezed. "I can feel how much you want my fucking cock," he retorted.

Moira freed him. Stood. Sat on the bed, slamming her legs together. "Fine! Go away, John!"

"No." He sat. Stood. Sat next to her. Put a hand on her bare thigh, shoving the nightshirt out of the way. "Look, Moy...you are putting me into an untenable position."

"No. There are lot of positions I'd like to put you into, sweetie..."she softly teased, sighed, "but it shouldn't be difficult to give me your word. Unless you really want to send me away."

"I don't, damn it! Moy, I don't want to send you anywhere except my bed. Our bed. I'm miserable without you, Moira. But I have to protect you at all costs. Even at the cost of our own happiness. To keep you safe. To keep John junior safe."

Moira sighed. "John...I'm miserable now! It's so much worse when an entire galaxy separates us. And that won't be good for John junior either. John...I can't. I can't do this! I can't do this alone," she admitted, staring at her hands, tears in her eyes. "I need you, John! I need to be with you. I can't handle this, this pregnancy by myself, I can't! Please, John, I have to be with you, I can't do this without you, without your love, without your support, without your help, I just can't! Please, John, please!" She turned to him, caught his hands in hers.

He stared, desire momentarily replaced by a surge of love, protectiveness for her. His fingers closed over hers. He leaned close, gently kissed her lips. "My word," he said at last. Beautiful green eyes gazing into hers. Solemn. Sincere. "You have it, Moy. Like you have everything else of mine, you have my word now too."

She relaxed. "Thank you, John. I...oh John!" She hugged him. Clung.

He embraced her. "Ssh, Moy. I'm sorry...I didn't realize how much you...I mean...Moira..." He kissed her brow. Moved her onto her back, kissing her lips. Kiss after kiss, tasting tears.

Moira suddenly found herself under him. John moving carefully onto her, hands roaming up under the nightshirt. Mouth roaming along her throat. She squirmed. Gently pushed. "John! We can't!"

He met her startled gaze. Smiled. "Of course we can, Moira."

"No, I mean we can't have sex on Katie's bed!"


	5. Chapter 5

Hierarchy5

John smiled. Carefully sliding his body along hers. He kissed her. "Why not? Sex on someone else's bed? Hmm...sounds kinky, doesn't it? And you know how I feel about kinky, baby."

Moira laughed. "John! No way!"

"I need to deploy ASAP, baby, and you need to inspect your property. Every inch," he wooed, kissing her again. "Make certain it's up to specs. Check the perimeter and secure the twenty if you know what I'm saying. Repeatedly."

"John! We can't!"

He sighed. Pouted. "Then please, please, my Moira, can we move back to our rooms? To our big, comfy bed? Please, sweetheart?"

She smirked at his expression. Pretended anger. "Oh fine! We can move back!"

He smiled. Kissed her. Rolled off her and stood. Pulled her to her feet. "Get dressed, baby. Then we can go home. Get undressed. And have lots of sex. Lots."

"If you insist," she sighed, laughed at his scowl. She quickly pulled on her clothes as he did. She turned to get her pack but he grabbed it with his.

"Extra camouflage," he explained with a raised brow.

She laughed. "Overkill, I'd say." She grabbed her pillow.

He scowled playfully. "You'll be saying all kinds of things, Moy, over and over. And over. Let's go! I'm about to come in my pants."

"Charming, John, as always." She led him out of the room. Quickly to their rooms. He dropped the packs as she tossed the pillow onto the bed. He was about to grab her when she moved to the bathroom.

"Not so fast, baby. I want to–"

"I don't care what you want, sweetie." She turned to him. "Just get naked, sweetie. I want to play with Colonel Boy-toy tonight. He needs to be disciplined."

John smiled. "I'm all yours, Moy-toy. Then it is my turn. Disciplined, you say? Hmm." John stripped to his shorts. Reclined on the bed. "Ah! This is much better than the floor!" he enthused, stretching. "Moira!"

"Shut up, John! I'm not one of your damn marines!"

He laughed. "Lord, I hope not!"

She laughed. "I want you comfortable, but not too comfortable." Moira switched off the lights with a wave of her hand. John could see well enough from the city lights flooding the room in waves of gold and amber. Moira was wearing the pale green nightshirt. She clambered onto the bed, over him. Swinging the manacles from one finger. A long silken scarf in the other, with a bottle of caramel sauce.

"Oh crap," John said happily. Gaze roving over the objects. Over her.

Moira smiled at him. "I want to tie you up, colonel. I want to ravish that gorgeous body of yours. Head to toes, well, lips to thighs, I guess. I want to slather you in caramel and nibble until you beg me to stop. I want you rock hard, colonel, so fucking hard you'll be at full salute for hours and hours."

He grinned, shifting under her. "Ah baby, do it. Do it all."

She kissed him. "Remember, sweetie,"she advised, showing him the manacles. "One button push opens them. So don't hurt yourself or break the headboard." She scooted up to take his wrists. Secured them in the manacles, then together over his head to the bedpost. "You've been a very naughty boy, colonel. So stubborn."

"Sorry, doctor. I'll take whatever you dish out. So...what's the scarf for?" he asked, testing the manacles. He lifted his head to kiss her breast through the fabric. "Ow!" he complained as she lightly slapped him.

"No, not yet! Is that okay?"

"What, the slap? No. The manacles, yes. So...the scarf?" he repeated, shifting as she ran kisses along his inner arm. Gently bit. He groaned. "Ah fuck!"

"Quiet, colonel!" She ran her fingers through his hair. Kissing him. Slow, languid kisses to savor his full lips. The curves of his mouth. His tongue playing along hers. She nibbled his lower lip, fingers gliding along his arms in soft caressing motions. Her mouth ran along his scruffy jaw, down his throat. Her fingers sliding down to his sides. Pressing her body to his, sliding along his waist, his thighs. He groaned happily as she moved lower.

"Ah Moira, Moira baby...fuck!" he exclaimed, shifting as she kissed along his chest. Gently biting his nipples, his side as her fingers clawed through his chest hair. Down to his waist.

"Colonel!" She sat, frowning. "You have to be quiet! Fine, you will have to punished."

"Oh please, baby, please, what?" His anticipation soured as she drew the scarf over his face. Then promptly covered his eyes with it. "Moira? No."

"No? You don't want sex, sweetie? I know how much you like to watch, but for your stubbornness you will be punished. You will feel everything, everything, colonel, but you won't see it. At least not clearly. So...yes or no?"

John frowned, but Moira shifted on him. Began to kiss along his arm again as she secured the scarf behind his head. "Fuck. Fine...yes. But I like to watch, damn it. I want to see you oh baby, fuck!" he growled as she bit his inner arm. Slid down his body. She kissed along his inner thigh, shoving his legs apart. Fingers tickling between his legs. She mouthed his erection through his shorts. Sucking hard at the silky cloth until he squirmed, groaning loudly.

John nearly bucked, rattling the chains that bound his arms over his head. He lifted his head to peer through the sheer scarf, but could only dimly see Moira at his crotch. Her hair swirling around her. "Fuck me, damn it! Moira!"

"Ssh!" Moira slapped his thigh. She fingered his shorts. "Such a naughty, naughty colonel!" She yanked off his shorts. He tensed, lifting to aid her. Fell back as she took hold of his now naked cock. Caressed. Paused. "What's this, John?" She ran her finger along the scratch. "Did I do this?"

John was shifting, arching, so full of lust he thought he'd burst. Cursing that he couldn't see her clearly, but could feel everything with intensity. "Yes! I mean yes, Moy, you did that. Kiss it and make it better, please, baby." He moaned as she freed him. Dribbled caramel sauce onto him. "Oh fuck..." he muttered.

"Oh! Sorry, sweetie. Guess we were too rough last night. Here . I'll make it all better. I spilled some caramel on it, but I can lick up every single drop. Every. Single. Drop," she teased, voice breathy. Hot on his bare skin. She ran her tongue delicately along the scratch.

John nearly lost it. Bucking and yanking the manacles so hard the headboard rattled. "Fuck! Oh fuck! Moira!" he groaned. He nearly whimpered as her mouth ran up his erection. Her fingers playing between his legs, gliding along tender spots. Gently tickling his balls as she kissed along the hard length of him again. Licking the caramel. Sucking teasingly. John was convinced he was going to die before he got off. "Oh God! Oh God, Moira, Moira!" he shouted.

"Ssh, John!" she scolded, laughed softly as his ecstatic reaction. "Or I will gag you next! Naughty, naughty colonel!" She slapped his thigh. Fingers plying him again to make him grunt and groan. "My oh my, colonel, oops! A little premature deployment. Naughty colonel." She kissed along his pelvis. Nibbled, dripping sauce along him again. She stroked his erection. Faster. Faster still, squeezing until he shuddered in her hand.

"Fuck! Moira, my God...Moira, I can't, I can't!" John's voice was nearly a growl, breathless. He writhed under her torture, her teasing. Pleasure shivering along his body. His hands clenching into fists as he rattled the chains again. Moira freed him, only to run her mouth up him again. Licking the caramel. Nibbling all the way to the head. She took him into her mouth as her fingers played intimately between his legs. Nails stroking, scratching.

She slid him out of her, causing John to exhale, fall back. "Oh colonel, I don't think I can take it," she teased hotly. "So fucking big and long...so hard I'll break a tooth."

"Please, Moy...please, oh fuck fuck fuck fuck!" he stuttered, a spasm rocking him. She took him into her mouth again. Tongue swirling along the caramel, his skin. Pressing up, up to the head again and biting. Harder, sucking as if she would break a piece off like a popsicle.

John grunted, writhing, almost weeping with pleasure. Making sounds that Moira had never heard before from him. She freed him as he shuddered, starting to come, unable to stop. She gasped as he hit the buttons of the manacles, arching up to free his arms. He yanked the scarf from his eyes. Met her gaze. Green eyes feral, almost wild with lust. Hunger.

Moira gulped, shifting on him. "Um, John?"

He smiled. Grabbed her, making her gasp. Pulled her up into a lengthy kiss. Mouth eager, demanding. He shoved her onto her back. "Sorry, baby, but I'm about to explode all over!" He shoved up the nightshirt and thrust into her. Moira cried out in a rush of surrender, of pleasure as John groaned loudly. Thrusting hard, harder. "Fuck! Fuck you nearly killed me, baby! Fuck!"

"Ssh! John, you oh John!" she cried softly, clutching as he rode her hard.

"Wider! Wider! Harder, Moy. Fuck me!" he ordered harshly. Yanking up the nightshirt as she squirmed under him. He greedily sucked at her breasts, sloppy. Gently biting to make her whimper, squirm wildly. She bent her knees, wrapped her legs around him to accommodate him fully. Clenching over him as he drove into her repeatedly. He grunted, voice deep, almost primal. An orgasmic litany escaping from his lips.

Moira clung. The bed was rocking wildly under her. The headboard slamming musically against the wall. She kissed him, pulling his face to hers. Circled his ear and bit to make him thrust all the harder, faster, deeper. She ran her nails ruthlessly down his bare back. Making him moan, shudder inside her. John was coming fast now. She squeezed his clenching rear, slid her fingers to tease along him intimately.

"Fuck! Oh fuck!" he nearly shouted, reacting with an arching, straining tension. Convinced he would die right there, still so hard and full and hungry for her. Drowning in the rush of oncoming pleasure. Shivers of sensual release rippled along his body. He jerked, thrust, shook. Ejaculated into spasm after spasm in a vivid release at last. Tension draining slowly as the orgasm took him, claimed him. Penetration and possession achieved at last.

Moira kissed his throat. Her hands freed him to slide along his back, gentle now as he groaned, breathing heavily. She unwrapped her legs, relaxing as she felt him going down. Motions slowing, gentling.

John fell upon her, exhausted. Speechless. His ragged breath hot on her skin. He was so replete he felt giddy. Elated. Moira's fingers stroked his back, his shoulders. Her gentle kisses on his throat, his cheek as he hid his face in her hair. "Moira," he croaked. Shifting on her. He lifted his head, breathing in the scent of her, of him, of the sex. All the urgency, the need had receded to a blissful lull. He met her loving gaze. "Hey."

She smiled. "Hey, John. Easy, colonel. Wow."

He smiled, but frowned. "You didn't come, baby. Did you?" He thought back. Recalled her moving with him. Her moans, her murmurs. Soft whimpers. But no oh John litany. Recalled his own litany of swear words and grunts as he came in spectacular fashion.

"It's all right, John." She kissed him. "You were way ahead of me. You practically came once you were inside of me. And kept coming...my God, John! I never thought you would stop! It's all right. It felt wonderful."

He eased his weight off her. Rolled onto his back, finally sliding out of her. "Moy...oh fuck. I can't even...you nearly killed me, baby...but you need to come. You always come, Moira. Always. Fuck." He was torn between disappointment and elation.

She snuggled against him, kissed his lips. "I will, sweetie, don't you worry. Once you are able. Relax. Rest. I'm glad I gave you so much pleasure, John. Maybe too much. You didn't have to shout!"

He weakly laughed. Wiped his brow. "Sorry, baby...you brought me in a double...such pleasure...even the discipline was so fucking hot. Moira...give me...let's see...give me twenty." His voice was already drowsy as he drifted into sleep. "Twenty and I'll give you such a fucking climax you will weep, Moy...twenty...give me..."

Moira smiled. "Okay, John. Don't you worry. Twenty." She kissed him, stroked his jaw. His chest. Amused at his serious concern. Pleasured, but not as intensely as he had been. She closed her eyes as he was already asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Hierarchy6

John stirred. Smiled. Blissfully happy he rolled onto his side. "Ow!" He smirked, feeling a partial erection from the vivid memories. Moira. The spectacular way she had taken him, brought him. He was nearly drunk on the exuberance, the passion. The sexual pleasures. He rolled onto his back, looked at his wife. She was asleep on her side towards him. He gently kissed her. "Moira?" He stroked her hair. Ran his mouth to her ear. "Moira?" He nibbled. Hand sliding over her bare breasts under the rumpled nightshirt. "Wake up, sweetheart."

Moira stirred. Rolled onto her back. Smiled, feeling John's kisses along her throat. His hands wandering. His mouth moving to her lips. His fingers gliding down between her legs. "John?"

"Hey, baby." He kissed her. "That wasn't twenty minutes, now was it? Hmm?"

She smiled, opened her eyes to meet his teasing, sparkling gaze. "No, sweetie. You zonked out fast. It's all right, John."

"No, it's not, Moira." He kissed her, shifting against her. "My Moira always comes. Always. And she will never be unsatisfied again."

She laughed at his serious tone. "John!"

He kissed her. "Hold on tight, baby. I'm going to bring you deliciously. Slowly. Every part of...ah. Don't you move." He smiled wickedly. Got out of the bed suddenly. "Take off that nightshirt, baby. I need you naked." He moved to the dresser, searched through a drawer.

"Wonderful," she muttered, but removed the garment. Moira stretched comfortably. The room was swathed in darkness. Even the city lights had dimmed. "John? No kinky," she said.

"A little kinky, baby. Only a little. Spices up the desire nicely."

"I'm pregnant, John, don't you forget."

He smirked. "Yeah, so people keep telling me. Don't you worry, baby, I am very aware of John junior. Doesn't mean we can't be kinky."

She sighed. "John, you don't need to um, go to any extraordinary measures."

He softly laughed. "Like you did? Oh yes, baby, I can play just as intensely as you. More so, actually. Every luscious bit." He returned, got in next to her. Raised a brow and gave her a salacious grin. Held up the bottle of caramel sauce. And three scarves.

"Oh my," she commented, intrigued and curious. "John?"

He laughed at her expression. Kissed her. Flung the blankets off her. "So fucking beautiful...here we go, baby. Trust me." He took her left wrist, wrapped the scarf around it. Tied it to the bedpost. He took her right wrist, did the same, tying it to the other bedpost. "How's that, baby? You're not getting away from me tonight."

She pulled at them carefully. "Okay, I guess...I..."

He kissed her. Ran his mouth teasingly along her bare inner arm. "They'll hold you in place, but you can pull free if you really need to, sweetheart. Now this. Your punishment." He tied the third scarf over her eyes. "Okay?"

Moira could barely make him out through the sheer fabric. She gasped, squirmed as he dribbled the caramel sauce onto her lips. "John! John, I...you..."

He kissed her. "Don't you worry, baby, I'll lick up every little bit. Or nibble. Or bite." He kissed her deeply, taking full possession of her mouth. Hands sliding down the sides of her body to her hips. He shoved her legs wide.

Moira whimpered, arched as he dribbled the sauce onto her breasts, waist. Baby bump. "John?"

"Hmm...you suppose John junior will have a craving for caramel, baby?"

She laughed. "Probably, John. You...oh!" She gasped as he dribbled it on her thigh, her mound. Set it aside. "You–"

"Oh yes, baby. Every inch." He kissed her, tongue easing into her mouth again.

Moira pulled at the scarves, lifted her head as she squirmed, moaned. John was an indistinct form moving along her body. Each kiss was startling vivid. Each swirl of his tongue, his lips sucking, mouth pulling at her breasts while his fingers played along her hips, her thighs. She softly moaned, arousal flooding as his tongue darted, licked. His scruffy jaw a sensual abrasion on her sensitive nipples. "John! Oh John, John..."

He gently laughed at her strained, aroused tone. "You're not getting away, baby, so don't even try," he teased as she pulled at the scarves again. The headboard rattled. He shoved her legs wide again, licked the caramel along her waist. The scar. The baby bump. "Hey John junior," he muttered. Nibbling her hip to make her whimper helplessly, lift and arch. Her soft, escalating sounds were arousing him wildly, but he held back, held back.

Moira pulled harder at the scarves, but they still held her arms up over her head to either side of her. She squirmed, whimpering as his fingers played along her thighs. As he kissed along her mound now, tasting the caramel, tasting her. She flooded, hot desire making her writhe, her breath quicken. "John! Oh John, John, please, John," she gulped, pleaded.

"Easy, baby, easy, we're only halfway there," he intoned huskily. He wanted nothing better than to thrust into her, but he waited. Waited. The excruciating delay only intensifying the desire. He nibbled the caramel, circling, circling like a hawk. Then dove into her with a sudden, quick motion of his mouth.

Moira cried out, almost sitting up as he aggressively sucked, nibbled, probed. His fingers slid up under her to grab her rear, to squeeze, to lift as he devoured, searched, found his target and attacked with such determined precision Moira nearly came in a shudder. She writhed, lifted. Yanking at the scarves now. The headboard hitting the wall. She couldn't break free and she wondered if John had misled her about the ease of escaping. "John! Oh John! John, please, please, John! Oh God, oh God, John, John!" she cried, voice rising in pleasure, in volume, in a stuttering sob. She was convinced she would die, right there, as he brought her so close, so close to a pulsing need that was almost painful. "John!"

"Ssh, baby," he growled, as he freed her. He slid up her body, kissing her breasts. He eased himself into her. Slowly. Delaying further as she struggled, whimpered. He groaned, but forced himself to a slow, gentle rhythm. Prolonging the release even more.

"John! Oh John, John, no! Now, faster, harder!" she breathlessly instructed, squirming. The pleasure circling. She yanked hard. The knots came free at last as the headboard slammed the wall. She grabbed his arms, fingers digging into his flesh as he nibbled up her throat. Up to her ear. Sucked at her earlobe and gently bit. Thrust harder suddenly, faster. Grunting now as he kissed her deeply, tongue darting in time to his cock. Possessing all of her.

Moira's nails dug into his arms as she was drowning under him. Inundated with pleasure, with him as he moved harder, faster, deeper. The bed was rocking, the headboard slamming. Moira freed her mouth from his to cry out loudly, over and over as the climax. The litany of his name escalating into almost a sobbing scream. She pushed, almost sitting up but he pushed her back with a grunting demand. "John!"

"Fuck!" He groaned, groaned, straining as at last he came. Shuddering and jerking inside her, expending the last of his energy, his lust. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! Moira, Moira, so fucking sweet!" He couldn't stop as she clenched tightly on him, her pulsing muscles trapping his throbbing erection until she finally relaxed, swept away on the waves of orgasm. He thrust, thrust, then fell upon her with a loud groan.

"John, oh John, John...my God! John, John," she sobbed, relaxing her grip on him. Her breathless voice punctuated by whimpers.

He slid out of her, shifted his weight off the baby bump. "Baby...oh baby...fuck...told you. You came. Boy did you come..."

"John...you..." she stammered, embarrassed by her exuberance, her loudness. She shifted but he was suddenly on top of her again.

"Moira...so fucking sweet...so fucking loud..." he smiled. Kissed her. "I would die for this. I would, to have this..." He kept kissing her, pressing. Possessing.

She gasped, grabbed him as he entered her again. "John? John, how in the–"

He laughed, kissed her. "So sweet I have to have it again, baby...sweet and slow, this time, Moira." He kissed her lengthily, showering affection, love onto her. Into her. Every motion slow, gentle. Intimate. Drawing out each tender kiss. Each gentle caress. Each careful thrust. Increasing momentum only a little. Catching her hands in his. Fingers entwined as he pushed her hands back against the bed. His gaze locked with hers when his mouth wasn't.

Moira whimpered, sighed in total surrender. Wonder. Love as the pleasure quietly but steadily grew. Promising passion. She felt dizzy with love, with intimacy. Making love now, not just sex. John's body locked with hers as his gaze was, as his mouth was. As close as two lovers could be, locked in a union with her. Hot bodies sliding along each other. His coarse chest hair tickling her breasts. Hardening cock filling every inch, finding every pleasure spot to caress, to cajole towards climax. "Oh John. Oh John. Oh John," she purred, losing herself in the loving, erotic sensations. His warmth. His love. His passion.

John was enjoying the slower momentum as well. The intense intimacy and trust. The love between them. "Moira, my Moira," he whispered into her ear. Voice low, possessive. He moaned, increasing his thrusting momentum suddenly. Brought them to a pleasant, pleasurable release nearly at the same time.

Moira moaned, clutched and arched, pulling him closer as the orgasm bloomed inside her. Sharply. Sweetly. "Oh John! John, John, John!" she softly enthused, rocking gently with him.

He thrust once more, came abruptly. Groaned happily. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He rested on her a moment. Pleasure surging in a wave over him, in him as she shifted. "That was fucking exquisite, baby." He slid out of her. Kissed her deeply, tongue dancing along hers. He rolled onto his back, sighed happily. "Moira...I trust you came as well?" he teased.

"Oh John! John, you are...you are...oh John!" she praised. She rolled onto her side. On top of him, snuggling, kissing him over and over. Showering kisses on his lips, his throat, his jaw. Circling his ear and gently nibbling. "I love you, John! I love you, I love you!"

He smiled, kissing her. "I love you, Moira. Wow...that was sweet, wasn't it? Go to sleep, baby."

"Are you kidding me? After that? After...oh John! John, I love you!"

"Ssh, baby," he smirked at her enthusiasm, praise. Passion. Enjoying every second of it. Of her. "Moira." He closed his eyes. "I'm spent. Totally."

"You should be, colonel. Wow." She pulled the blankets over them. Snuggled on top of him. "Oh John...John..." She caressed his chest, kissing softly. "John...did you, did you make love like that to, to your lots some women?"

"No. Only to you, my Moira. Like that. Now hush," he scolded, relaxing. Pleasantly drained. Pleased at her pleasure, at his. Enjoying her love washing over him. He caressed her back, her hair. Falling into a slumber.

"And, and the other? I mean, you...well, you probably went, went down on your lots some–"

"Ssh. None were as sweet or lush as you, baby. Now ssh. No post-coital talking, remember?"

She smiled. Felt him falling asleep. But she was wide awake. Astonished at his performance. Endurance. The first time so blatantly erotic, sexual. Intense. The second so gentle, loving. Intimate. She stared at the darkness, secure in his arms, on his body. She shifted on him. "John?" He groaned in response, making her smile. "The way you came...before, when I...did you come like that with your lots some–"

"Moira!" he scolded, swatted her rear. "Enough! No. The answer is no, baby. All right? Only you make me come so hard, so intensely my balls still ache! Now hush!" He considered. "Tell me, Moira, did you ever come like that, like you just did, both times, with any of your few, few men?"

"No."

"Not even with...what's his name? James?" he recalled, voice gentle. He caressed her back.

"No."

He kissed her brow. "Oh."

She lifted up to see his thoughtful expression. Beautiful green eyes full of curiosity. Passion. Love as he met her gaze. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering, that's all. You always, always ask me about my lots some women, so I thought I'd ask about your few, few men. None of them ever did kinky with you?"

She smiled, kissed him. "No, sweetie. Only you. Must be a John Sheppard speciality."

He smiled. "That it is, baby. For Moira Sheppard."

"And your lots some women? I bet some of them did kinky with you. P robably even kinkier than I have, right? And I know some went down on you. Like that what's her name? Susan whatever?"

"Yeah, so? What does it matter, baby?" He gently brushed her hair from her face. "I'm with you now. Will always be."

"I was just curious, John. I mean...I know you have had ample, um, experience. Developing your, um, techniques."

He smiled. "Yes. And now those um, techniques are all at your service, baby. As yours are solely for me." He kissed her gently. Saw her sudden smirk. "What?"

She softly laughed. Licked along his throat. "Bit of caramel."

"Ah."

She licked her lips. "Good. Did any of your lots some women have a caramel–"

"Fetish? No. And before you ask me, no. I only have an, um, interest in your sodden panties, baby."

"Oh. Good to know, John."

"You've never played this caramel game with your few–"

"No. Nothing like that." She ran her fingers along his face, his jaw. "It's you, sweetie. The things you do to me, with me. The things you make me feel, make me want. Make me crave. Such naughty thoughts I have of you, colonel," she confided with a smile.

He grinned. "Oh? You need to tell me every one of those naughty thoughts, baby." He kissed her. "Moira, you wouldn't believe how very, very naughty my thoughts are of you."

"Hmm...I can imagine, sweetie." He laughed gently. She smiled, kissed him. "Oh John."

He closed his eyes. "Oh Moira. Sleep. Poor John junior must think he's in an earthquake zone." She laughed. "You know, baby, I bet you...let's see, I bet you a Sheppard's delight I get called into Weir's office tomorrow."

She lifted her head to see his merriment. "Why?"

"Why? Seriously? Because I am absolutely certain the whole fucking city heard us, baby. I think they may have heard me, but you...I know they heard you."

She frowned, hit his arm as he laughed. "Shut up, John!"

"I'm serious, baby. I bet you a Sheppard's delight I get called into Weir's office for our exuberant, ecstatic, noisy, loud lovemaking. Deal?"

"It's not funny, John!" She sighed. Snuggled. "Shut up!"

"It is, Moy. It's hilarious. You. Me. Exuberant, loud sex to wake the whole city. Hey, what can we argue about next? Because angry sex and make-up sex are just too fucking delicious to ow!" he complained as she hit his arm. He snorted. "Okay, baby. Shutting up."


	7. Chapter 7

Hierarchy7

John carried his loaded tray to Rodney's table. Sat across from him. "Any progress?" he asked, began to devour his food. He had left Moira sleeping soundly in their bed. He had noticed the women's stares, their admiring speculation. More intense than usual. Had noticed the men's grins quickly hidden as he had passed. He all but swaggered across the cafeteria, not caring if last night's passionate activities had been overheard or not. Relishing it, actually, although he knew Moira would be less than pleased. Or amused.

"Oh, good morning to you too, John," Rodney snarled. "Are you going to eat all of that?"

"Yeah. I worked up quite the appetite last night," John boasted, couldn't help himself.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Spare me the details, please! No progress. I've built a reasonable facsimile of the Impulse Blocker but without those crystals it's useless. Zelenka's running a check on old mission reports to see if–"

"Didn't you say that yesterday?" John quipped round a mouthful.

"Why, yes, John, I did. Didn't you ask me that exact question yesterday?"

"Why, yes, Rodney, I did. We need that Wraith Detector now."

"Impulse Blocker, and really? Oh okay. Let me push aside my six other projects you need right away and devote myself to this one!"

"Yes, why don't you do exactly that?"

"Oh. Elizabeth wants to see you in her office."

"Bingo." John smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Did she say why?"

"How should I know? Maybe for disrupting the peace," Rodney quipped. He laughed at John's surprise.

"I have no idea what you are talking about and I–"

"Oh please, John! But you're right. I guess it was Moira who was really disturbing the peace."

Before John could reply or defend his wife Radek Zelenka rushed to them. "I've got it! Rodney, John, I've found a match! For the exact kind of crystal interface you've been needing for the Impulse Blocker!" He displayed a data screen. "Here. P1R349. We've been looking in the wrong place! These crystals are practically in our backyard, so to speak. We've been to this planet before, on a trading–"

Rodney snatched the data pad. "Yes, yes, but are you sure? They have to be the exact...oh!" He brought up the data. "There's our mission, John. That is, if you can manage to tear yourself away from your–"

"Bring it to Weir. You can come with me now and we will present the mission. Good work, Radek." He stood. "Rodney, let's go!"

"But I haven't finished–" Rodney began to protest, eying his food.

"I thought this was vital, Rodney! Let's go!"

"You just want me to head off whatever trouble you're in," Rodney accused. Nevertheless he stood, data pad in his hands and followed John.

"Who? Me? Trouble? Nah!" he opined. Grinned. Passed Moira who was just entering the cafeteria. He paused. Winked at her.

Moira smiled at her husband as he winked, passed her. Rodney followed on his heels. She grabbed another Danish, carried her plate to a table and sat. She had woken up alone, tangled in the blankets. In the fading warmth from John's body. His love which had enveloped her all evening. She glanced up as Katie and Julie Armstrong joined her. Started on her second Danish, sipped some juice. Looked up again to see them smiling, watching her. "What? I am eating for two, you know," she defended.

The women laughed, exchanged a glance. "Not to mention the um, exertions of last night?" Julie teased. They laughed again.

"Oh? Oh..shit," Moira realized. She sighed. "Damn it! John said we'd been overheard but I thought he was just teasing me."

"I have to know, Moira. Is he really that good?" Julie asked in a soft voice. "I mean, you weren't just, you know, faking the O to encourage his stamina?"

"Julie! You can't ask her such a thing!" Katie exclaimed, blushing.

"I just did," Julie retorted.

Moira smiled. "Yes to the first. No to the second." She laughed at their mutual surprise. Disbelief. "That's the absolute truth," she assured. "John...John's amazing. That's all I'm saying on the subject."

Julie snorted. "Okay then. So...is it these military types? Because no scientist ever made me shout their name like you were shouting last night."

"Shit!" Moira sighed at their laughter. "Maybe...but I think it's a John Sheppard thing," Moira confided. "That loud?"

Julie nodded, laughed as Katie smirked. "You should hear the stories."

"Great, just great," Moira sighed. Smiled. "But it was worth it. Every single time."

The women erupted into hearty laughter.

Elizabeth typed on her computer. Frowned. Brought up another screen. She looked up hearing voices. Saw John ascending the stairs, Rodney beside him. Both men talking at the same time. Their voices contrasting. John's melodious, tones ranging up and down, almost musical in its varied cadence. Rodney's a steady tone, not unlike the busy signal of a phone, but with incredible rushes of words all running together, rising in volume and pitch as he became more animated and excited.

The two men were quite a contrast in appearance as well. John all fluid motion, graceful as he climbed the steps. Long, lean body moving effortlessly. Arms at his sides, hands relaxed. Compared to Rodney who was all motion, hands weaving in the air even with a data pad clutched in one of them. Clomping up the stairs, each footstep a footnote or exclamation to whatever he was saying.

She straightened in her chair. Pushed a curl of dark hair behind her ear. Preening unconsciously as her gaze took in John's long, lean form again. Clad in a simple black t-shirt and gray pants, yet appearing utterly stunning, utterly gorgeous. His economy of movement. His disordered hair. His quick smile. His almost palpable happiness until he clamped down on it, switching off emotions and appearing the consummate professional. "John, good, I need to see you about–"

Rodney pushed past him, placed the pad squarely on her desk. "Here. P1R349. We've been there before, traded actually, but they have the exact crystals I need for the Impulse Blocker. The exact ones! And the sooner my team is prepped and going there the sooner I can build the IB and protect the city from any Wraith incursions!"

"Wraith Detector," John noted drily, moving next to his friend, "and I can have my team prepped in thirty for this mission. We can be there and back in an hour, tops."

"An hour?" Rodney eyed him. "Have you forgotten how far the 'Gate is from the village? And the Ancient ruins are even farther out, and as I recall it took us three hours last time. I know you'll be anxious to get back here and all, to your lovey-dovey Sheppard land but we need at least three hours, no six for a round trip there and back to–"

John met his gaze, quizzical expression on his face. "Lovey-dovey Sheppard land? Fine, six hours in total. Does that include the inevitable hour of your whining how far everything is?"

"Ha ha. Yes." Rodney eyed Elizabeth. "Do we have a go?"

Elizabeth smiled, trying not to laugh. "Yes. We need those crystals, but don't just take them. Give them fair trade."

"Yeah, yeah, Teyla will handle that part and Ronon can look threatening," Rodney quipped.

John smiled. "I'll go prep my team."

"No, John, I need a word. Rodney, go."

"Right, I'll prep my team. On it." He met John's gaze. "Hey, I did my best." He left.

John sighed. Stood behind a chair, placed his hands on the back of it. Met Elizabeth's amused gaze. "Look, Elizabeth, this mission is important. We need those crystals. If we can find a way to block the Wraith's mental powers...well, I don't have to tell you how crucial that could be in any campaign. For strategies. Defense. Attack. This mission will be a no-brainer. In and out. We'll make fair trade for the crystals. In fact Teyla will insist upon it."

"I know that, John."

He waited. Sighed. Tried to hide his smirk as he glanced down at the empty chair in front of him. Sobered. "Look, if this is about last night..." he paused, eyed the table as a swarm of erotic memories flooded his mind. He pushed them aside. "I'm not apologizing for anything. Moira and I are married. And yes, still very passionate about each other, still very attracted to each other. I'm not changing a second of our time together, nor should I. Nor will she."

Elizabeth raised a brow, utterly charmed by his sudden awkwardness. Defiance, yet at the same time a slight embarrassment. Smugness vying with annoyance. She raised a brow. "Well, that wasn't why I wanted to talk to you, John, but thanks for the info. Shall I table that under need to know, or too much information?"

John smirked. "Oh. It wasn't? Sorry." He shrugged. Sat in the chair at last. Eyed his hands for a moment. Looked at her. "Um, what was the reason?"

Elizabeth laughed at his consternation. "Well, it does concern your wife. But not in that way." She became serious. "How you have somehow set up a secret lab for her?"

John relaxed. Shrugged again. "Oh. That."

"Yes, that. John?" She waited for his explanation.

"Technically I didn't set it up, and I really didn't know about it, but yes, I approved it and there's no harm in it. Moira's doing some work at my request."

"At your request? What kind of work? And why in an isolated lab, in an isolated part of the city? And how is it that she can power that area when Rodney couldn't? John?"

John licked his lips. Hand snaking to his pocket, but it was empty. Devoid of a pair of Moira's purloined panties. They had an oddly calming effect on him. "Yes. I cleared it. Just some additional research about those planets and her own trajectory migration work. I needed the work isolated from the main grid. She's a little stronger in the gene now because of the pregnancy, that's all. This isn't a problem, is it?"

"You tell me. Opening a whole new lab for your wife without telling anyone. Assigning her work, secret work apparently of which I know nothing. And she's got a stronger ATA gene, and you didn't bother to tell me that either. John...what the hell is going on here?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You're going to sit there and tell me nothing? Nothing?"

"Yes." At her frown he added, "it's just some additional research, is all. And she's almost finished with it. I think. And now we have a whole new lab to play with, well, the scientists will once Moira's finished with her work. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Any other secret projects you've been concealing from me?"

John pretended to consider. "No. Not that I can recall." He added as she frowned again, "Look, it's no big deal. They're combing through old Ancient records and not taking any time from their own work."

"They? Who else is involved? So it's not just Moira?"

John cursed to himself. "No...she needed help so she obtained assistance. It's no big deal." He stood before Elizabeth could continue her interrogation. "I'll go prep my team. We'll be back with the crystals in about six hours or so."

"John! What kind of research, exactly! Were you even going to share the...John!" she called, but he was gone, striding out of the room ignoring her questions.


	8. Chapter 8

Hierarchy8

Julie sighed, as the three women still sat at the table in the cafeteria. "I don't know. Maybe it's me. But the scientists here, well...the men are not very forthcoming, in terms of dating."

"I know," Katie sighed, thinking of Rodney. The women laughed.

Moira smiled. "Maybe you should change your flavor, then. Try a marine."

"Ugh. No. They'd be worse, but in a different way, I'm sure," Julie opined, shaking her head. "Although at least they do know how to approach a woman. Some of these scientists are positively timid."

"I know," Katie agreed again. The women laughed at her consternation.

"Seriously! Those marines are too...I don't know...gruff. Those marines are like your colonel and are interested in only one thing and–"

"Whoa there," Moira raised a hand, a finger. "My colonel's Air Force. Not a marine. An entirely different species, or so he tells me. He's quite adamant on that point. John's quite adamant about a lot of–"

"A lot of what, Moira?" John asked as he neared. Eyed the women.

"Oh, nothing, John," she evaded.

"Nothing? I'm quite adamant about a lot of nothing? Doesn't sound like me. Would you excuse us, ladies? I need a quiet word with my wife."

"Of course, colonel. We'll see you below," Katie said with a smile, moving to her feet.

"I didn't think the colonel did anything quietly," Julie quipped. Eyed him speculatively as the women laughed.

"That's true," Moira agreed. She smiled as John sat across from her, brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"Do I want to know?" he asked.

"No, you don't. What is it?"

"Mission. To get Rodney's crystals for the Wraith Detector." He caught her hand on the table. "It won't take long, Moira. I'll be back in plenty of time for Sheppard's delight."

"You...oh! You were called into Weir's office?"

"Yes. But not for our virtuoso sexual concert last night. I guess you won. Our bet," he reminded to her puzzled gaze. "Sheppard's delight, baby."

She smiled. "Sounds like we both won, sweetie. Be careful, John."

"Of course, Moy." He stood. Leaned over the table to kiss her. "I'll be back ASAP. You'll be all right?"

"Of course, John," she echoed. "I've got plenty to do here. That is if I can keep my mind on my work, sweetie, and not on that extraordinary lovemaking."

He smiled. "You and me both, baby. We may have outdone ourselves. How's that work in bio two coming along?"

"Huh? Oh...it's coming along. I'm closer to finding the breeding ground. I think. Why?"

"No reason. Just need the intel ASAP, Moira. Take care of yourself and John junior. And rest. When I get back you are going to be very, very busy."

She laughed at his suggestive look. "Promises, promises, sweetie. I'll make sure we have enough caramel fudge."

"Good. We'll need lots. Lots." He kissed her again, strode out of the cafeteria.

John trudged through the forest, ducking under branches. "Just once, just once I wish we would find a planet that has cars. Bicycles. Even a golf cart."

"You see? I told you it was a long walk," Rodney argued, trudging after him. "We should have taken the Jumper."

"And I told you it can't maneuver in these dense woods. Let's pick up the pace."

"Why? You've got some place to be? A hot date?"

John smiled. "Yes. As a matter of fact I do. I...ow!" He reacted as a branch swung across his face. He swore. Touched his cheek. A thin line of blood dribbled. "Why can't we find a planet without these damn forests?" he grumbled, rubbing his cheek.

"It's just a scratch, colonel," Teyla noted in amusement.

"I'm sure Moira will kiss it and make it better," Ronon jested. The team laughed.

John smiled. Continued through the trees. "She better. Ah. Here we are, at last. Rodney, go." He gestured towards a pile of ruined architecture. An Ancient structure that had been almost obliterated centuries ago. He cradled his P90, looking round at the destruction. Rodney hastened into the middle of it, slowing to carefully pick his way around a pile of rocks and debris. A shattered console displayed a myriad of crystals, all jutting at odd angles and reflecting the sunlight. Teyla was conferring with the village elder as the villagers stood round, watching them warily. Ronon was strolling along the perimeter, keeping guard.

John's mind wandered as he rubbed the scratch on his face. Recalling another scratch on a much more private area of his anatomy. Recalled Moira's teasing. Her kisses. Her mouth on that scratch. The sensual feel of her tongue, her lips. Her mouth enfolded him gently, then harder. Harder still as she teased, tormented him. His lower body tensed with the vivid memory. He shifted his stance, cleared his mind of the erotic images.

"John? John?"

"Huh? Oh..." He smiled, shrugged. "Sorry. What was the question, Teyla?"

She quirked a brow. "Uldan has agreed to trade with us. The crystals for our winter goods. Blankets and coats and some MREs."

"Ah. Good."

"I need seven!" Rodney called over his shoulder, already working on extracting them.

"We need seven," John echoed, glanced at the villagers. He moved to Rodney. "What's taking so damn long?"

Rodney glared at him, up at him as he blocked the sun with his hand. He was on his knees in front of the console. "These are delicate, John! I need to ease them out slowly, one by one. And not all of them are the right ones so I have to find the exact ones I need! Turn them this way and that, like tumblers in a lock. The slightest mistake could–"

John reached down, yanked one free. "There. Speed it up."

"Damn it! You could have broken the...oh." Rodney snatched the crystal from his friend. Turned it over in his hands. "I guess not. I must have loosened it for you."

John snorted. "Yeah, right."

Evan entered the bio lab. Smiled as he neared Moira. She was busy at work, comparing slides and entering data. At the same time munching on a handful of potato chips. "Moira, how would you feel about going on a mission? You can even bring your food."

She met his gaze. "Funny. A mission? Now?" she asked, setting the food aside.

"Yes. Apparently the inhabitants of M2Q219 have a creature problem. Some sort of animal that they've never seen before has come down from the higher plains. They've requested assistance to deal with it. Sounds like a perfect mission for a biologist, maybe even a paleozoologist. Know of any?"

Moira shook her head. "Very funny, Evan. Yes. Sounds good to me. I'd like to go on a mission. Get out of the city for a change." She paused. Frowned. "John won't like it, though."

"He's not here. Besides, Weir wants you to go. Unless you don't feel up to it, of course."

"I feel fine. Okay...I guess. When?"

"In thirty. Time to grab your stuff. Meet me in the 'Gate room. And don't be late," he admonished sternly.

Moira smiled. "Me? Late? Never. Thanks, major." She followed him out of the lab. Ran back to grab her potato chips. Glaring at his laugh she hastened to her quarters to fill a pack with what she needed. Grabbing a jacket she pulled it on, hastened to the 'Gate room. Stood looking round, pack slung over one shoulder. She turned as Evan neared. He eyed with her with a raised brow. "See? I beat you here for a change."

"I'm impressed, Moira. Are you shrinking?"

"What? Oh!" She laughed, smoothed down the green satin material. "It's John's coat. Camouflage."

"Oh. Good idea, doctor."

"Um...what about Major Reynolds? Is he–"

"Yes. I'll not even try to get around Colonel Sheppard's orders. Nor would Weir. I've told Kavanaugh to sit this one out. I'd rather have another marine with us. Not that I'm expecting any trouble, of course, but since you're expecting..."

"Wonderful," she noted grumpily, causing him to smile. "What if we run into any Ancient tech?"

"We've got you, Moira. You're almost a scientist, right?"

Moira hit his arm. "You are so going to regret that!"

He laughed. "I already do. Dial it up!" he ordered as three marines joined them.

Moira nodded at Jason Reynolds as he came to stand beside her. "Major."

"Doctor."

"I hope you don't mind tagging along like this," she apologized.

"Not at all, doctor. I'm actually honored that Colonel Sheppard trusts me with what is most precious to him."

Moira smiled, touched.

Evan shook his head over the exchange. "Let's go. Anderson, take point. Lewis, the six. Let's go hunt down a creature, shall we?"


	9. Chapter 9

Hierarchy9

John circled again. Glanced around at the ruins. The towering trees. The wind was sighing in the heavy boughs. Sounding like a mournful lover. Leaves blew wildly across the shattered structures. Waves of bright green ripped from the oaks and elms and poplars. Teyla and Ronon had left with the villagers to conduct the trade of goods at the Stargate. He circled again, paused to stand next to Rodney. "Today, Rodney?"

"Tomorrow if you don't stop interrupting me!" he flared. He was hunched under the dilapidated console. Carefully twisting a crystal. "That first one was a fluke. These are much tighter, and several have suffered serious structural damage. Many are now useless! Even your ATA won't power this marginally to ease the workable ones out. Too bad your super powered wife isn't here with us."

"Yeah, too bad," John agreed. He circled again. The wind was chilly. He wished he had brought his jacket with him. He paused by Rodney again, watching the physicist carefully remove another crystal.

"What's it like?" Rodney asked, placing the now free, slender crystal into his case. He started on another one after a brisk inspection.

"What's what like?" John asked.

Rodney groaned. "My knees are killing me! I need a break. And a snack!" He sat back on his haunches, rubbed his lower back. He grabbed his pack and pulled out a power bar. Ate. "You try. But gently!"

John squatted, setting his gun aside. "What's what like?" he repeated. Turned the indicated crystal carefully. It felt oddly warm in his hands, but very fragile. He eased it out inch by inch.

"Being married," Rodney answered around a mouthful. "I don't meant the lovey-dovey Sheppard land stuff. God knows the whole base knows how that is. I mean the other stuff. The every day stuff."

John glanced at him. Returned his gaze to the crystal. "It's nice."

"Nice? Really? Nice. Huh."

"Yes. Nice. What did you think I was going to say?" John asked curtly.

"I don't know. Nice," he repeated, pondering. "So it's nice. The other stuff. Living with her. With a woman, I mean. Day to day. The same woman, day to day."

"Yes. It's nice," John repeated.

"Huh. Just...nice."

"Yes, nice!" John snapped. Regretting his words. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing. Nice."

"Shut up!" He eased the crystal out of the machine. "There. Your turn." He stood, snatching his gun off the ground. Stepped away in annoyance. Circled once more.

Moira dug in her pack. Paused on the ridge. The wind blew harshly as the team climbed higher. She was clad to have John's jacket on her. Apart from concealing her pregnancy it was warm. Redolent with his scent, his warmth. She pulled out a candy bar, began to munch on it. Resumed walking. "What?" she asked to Evan's bemused stare.

"Again? Didn't you eat a power bar a ways back?"

"Yes. So?"

"It's like having McKay with us." The men laughed.

Moira frowned. "Shut up, Evan! That was plain mean!"

"I have to agree, major," Jason commented.

"Thank you, Major Reynolds. Just for that you can have a candy bar. But only you." She handed him one.

"Thank you, Doctor Sheppard." He took it, smiled smugly at the other men.

"Call me Moira, please."

"All right. If you call me Jason. Moira, do you mind if I ask who is your supplier? Chocolate bars are getting scarce in Atlantis these days."

Moira smiled. "I know a certain military commander who wisely put aside a secret stash for his pregnant wife."

"Smart man." Laughter.

"Yes," she agreed. "But the secret stash is classified intel. Seriously, don't let on to Rodney or we will all suffer."

"That's true!" Evan agreed. "Here. I think I see...something. Moira?"

She joined him. Stared down the ridge into the distance. The animal was so large she didn't need binoculars to see it clearly. "Wow! Evan...Evan! That's an indicotherium! But smaller."

"Smaller?" Jason asked in disbelief, staring at the large, lumbering beast as it made it's leisurely way along the trees. It's elongated head easily reached the tops the tallest trees.

"Yes. Unlike the ones on Pleistocene Park which are massive compared to this little one! It's almost as if it evolved to a sub-species, unless it's a juvenile. But judging by the facial structure and the anatomy I'd say this was an adult. Horns! It has horns! Indicrotheriums don't have horns, at least the ones we know about! Wow! With no natural predators, no climatic change and a steady diet it must have evolved to a smaller size because of the environmental impact of its own feeding cycles on the...I have to film this!" She dug around in her pack. Produced a camcorder and began to film the animal.

"Is it dangerous?" asked a marine, gripping his weapon firmly.

"No, it's a herbivore," she answered. "A big, well, fairly big herbivore. Like a rhinoceros. The villagers are more in danger of being trampled on than being eaten."

"Good to know," Evan remarked with a smile.

"It probably wandered down to the village to forage. The vegetation looks rather sparse up here. There's better vegetation at the lower altitudes, particularly during the colder months. Evan, look! There's another one! The same size too! Look at the horn spread! Magnificent! And the elongated trunk! I wonder if there is a breeding population here! A sub-species due to genetic isolation and adaptation to this environment!"

"Why don't we take a look? We've got the time," he offered, charmed by her enthusiasm. "Anderson, let the villagers know these animals are harmless. Here, Moira, we can go a little higher and see the whole valley."

John circled. Scowled. Rodney was sitting back once more, eating. "Another break?"

"Yes. Only one more to go, if you care to do something besides critiquing me."

"I could do that all day," he quipped, earning a glare. He knelt, worked at the crystal Rodney indicated. "When I said nice I meant...nice," he tried to explain. Feeling the odd need to explain. "I meant...I meant fantastic. Wonderful." He turned it. Eased it out. Handed it over and stood. He reached into the pocket of his TAC vest, heard a crinkling sound. Pulled out the scan of the baby. So small, barely recognizably human. He stared. "Moira...Moira's the best thing to ever happen to me," he gruffly noted. Slid the scan back into his pocket. Uncomfortable at his emotion. "Like I said. Nice."

Rodney smiled at his friend's uncharacteristic awkwardness. "Okay. Nice. I guess that covers it, then. All done." He closed the case. "We can go now."

"About time," John grumbled. Turned to see Teyla heading for him. A disconcerting look on her face. "Oh oh. What is it? Don't tell me the trade is off."

"No. The trade went well. The villagers showed us something. Something that came through the 'Gate a week ago. You have to see this, John. Ronon is with it now."

"It?" Rodney asked, as they followed the petite woman out of the ruins. "What do you mean by the word it?"

"What he said. What is it?"

"That's just it, John. I don't know. I've never seen anything like it!"

************************************************************************\

Moira crouched awkwardly. Stared over the ridge. "Don't spook them."

"Spook them?" Evan asked, but kept his voice low. He glanced at Jason who was crouched on Moira's other side. "Seriously?"

"Hush!" She smiled. "There's a baby! Look!" She pointed. A smaller animal had joined the herd that was moving slowly along the trees. The ground slightly shook with each step, could even be felt high on the ridge where the three humans perched, observing. "Isn't it cute?"

"Yeah, real cute...it's the size of a car!" Jason stated.

"Ssh! Yes, but it's just a baby."

"Don't go all maternal on us just yet," Evan jested. "Ow!" he protested when she elbowed him.

"Shut up! Let me film this and then we can go. Beside...I'm hungry again." She sighed as the men laughed quietly. "Men," she muttered under her breath.

John entered the clearing. His steps paused for a moment, as he raised his gun. Seeing Ronon standing vigil over a prone form on the ground. The others passed him. He quickly joined them, took the lead again, brushing off his oddly uncharacteristic hesitation. "Is it dead?"

"Can't you tell by that lovely smell?" Rodney quipped, covering his nose and mouth with his hand. Nevertheless he echoed the question. "Is it dead?"

"Yes. For a week, I would estimate," Ronon assured. Voice grim. Nevertheless he kept his big gun trained on it.

John stared down at the body. Stared. Circled, stepping past a vigilant Ronon, a puzzled Teyla, a disgusted Rodney. He stopped. Shook his head. "Well...you got me. It's sort of, buggy. Kind of...Wraithy...but it's not. Like a...a weird hybrid..."

"It's gross! Can we go now?"

"Do you not wish to gather samples for Carson and Moira?" Teyla asked. "Or bring the whole carcass back to–"

"Hell no! No. I'm not touching it. Film it. Rodney. Rodney! Film the damn thing," John ordered. The more insect-like appendages were making him oddly queasy. He briefly touched his neck. Flexed his foot secure in his boot recalling Moira's injury. The horrible thing that had come out of her foot. The creature on the ground was not such an amalgamation of human and bug and Wraith but something worse. Much worse.

Rodney grimaced, but fumbled in his pack. Pulled out his camcorder and filmed.

"You need to burn it. Destroy it," Ronon told the villagers.

"And there was only one?" Teyla asked.

"Yes," a villager answered. "It came through the Stargate like a nightmare! We killed it right away. We kept it...in case others came. We did not know what it was. Or its purpose in coming here in the first place. No Wraith have appeared since it came."

"I doubt the Wraith sent it," John noted. Shaking his head. Gingerly he nudged a vaguely human-looking leg with his boot. Scales fell from the flesh, reminding him a fish.

"If not the Wraith, then who?"

John eyed the villager asking the question. Found himself wondering the same thing.


	10. Chapter 10

Hierarchy10

Once through the Stargate John took the camcorder from Rodney, strode to Elizabeth. "Mission accomplished. Rodney's got the crystals he needs for–"

"I've got the crystals I need for the Impulse Blocker," Rodney interrupted, joining them, "and once I get the prototype up and running I will be able to better see not only how it works but be able to adapt it to the Ancient tech to create a whole series of–"

"Then go already," John advised. "The villagers had an interesting visitor. A weird creature unlike any I've ever seen. I need Moira to–"

"Yes, I need Moira to activate the latent interfaces in the–" Rodney agreed at the same time.

"She's not here," Elizabeth informed, looking from one to the other.

"What?" the two men exclaimed at the same time. Exchanged a glance.

"She's on a mission, John. Rodney, let me know when you have assembled the device and get it working. John," she invited, walking out of the 'Gate room.

John exchanged another glance with Rodney, followed Elizabeth to the control room. Anger and worry colliding. He waited until they had reached her office. "You sent my pregnant wife on a mission?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Yes, I did." Elizabeth turned to face him. "She was needed. She felt fine, good enough to go. But worried over how you would react. And frankly, so was I."

"Where?" he asked. Already heading for the door, every impulse telling him to go after her.

"Wait! John, relax! It's a perfectly safe planet. One with which we have good relations. Major Reynolds is with them. They asked for our help with some unknown animal."

John tensed. Turned back to face her. "You sent my pregnant wife to investigate an unknown–"

"Yes, I sent Lorne's team to aid our allies. They've only been gone two hours and are due back in one hour. It's a perfectly safe mission, John," she assured.

"No mission is perfectly safe, Elizabeth. I'm going after her." He headed for the door again.

"John!" She halted him at the threshold, her voice strident. "You will do no such thing! This is a good test for you, colonel. You told me you could handle it. Handle all of it. Being military commander. Being a husband. Now being an expectant father. I need to see that you can handle all of it. That it doesn't impede your job here. Your role here."

He touched the door frame. Turned slowly back to her. "One hour. If they're not back I am going to retrieve her myself, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me," he threatened.

"Fine. One hour. Meanwhile tell me about this creature you mentioned. And we can go over the mission roster for next month. And we can debrief your own team."

Moira stepped into the 'Gate room with the rest of the team. She turned to the men. "Now, remember, boys, not a word about the classified stash." They smiled.

"Oh oh." Evan gestured.

Moira turned. Saw John watching in the control room. His expression unreadable. A sudden motion as he headed for them. "Oh shit. Time to face the music."

"Do your best, Moira. No one can face the wrath of Sheppard like you can," Evan noted.

"Oh, thanks, Evan! Why do I always have to face the wrath of Sheppard?"

"Because you married him," Jason quipped. The men sobered. Straightened. "Sir."

"Report, major," John stated, eying them. He studied Moira.

"Nothing really, sir. A harmless animal, well, group of animals. Just really, really big. Moira can explain it far better than I can."

"Yes, I'm sure she can. Dismissed. Debrief in thirty." He looked at Jason, nodded briskly. "Moira." He took her pack from her. Raised a brow. "Isn't that my jacket?"

"Yes. Camouflage," she explained. Walking with him out of the room. "John...I um, I found a power bar in your pocket. I um, I ate it. Sorry."

He smiled. "That's all right, Moira."

"I also found this." She stopped. He turned. She pulled out a pair of blue satin panties. "They're not mine, colonel, so exactly whose are these?" she teased, voice serious.

"What? Of course they are yours, Moira! Yours are the only ones I have ever...oh, hilarious, Moira!" He saw her mirth. She laughed as he glowered. She shoved them back into the pocket.

"You should have seen your face, John! Oh, your face!" She stepped close. Gently touched the scratch along his cheek. "What happened?"

"Tree attack. Don't you worry, baby. I was told you would kiss it and make it all better." He led her to their rooms. "I should spank that pert little ass for that, baby."

She laughed. Took the pack from him. Set it on the table. "I've got to get this footage to Peter! Oh John! It was incredible!" she enthused, taking off the jacket and draping it over a chair. "An indocotherium! Like we've never seen before! I mean compared to the ones on Pleistocene Park! I need to go there, John, to make suitable comparisons because I believe that this one, this new herd is a sub-species, an adaptation to the new environment and their impact upon it! This small population has evolved into a smaller and more distinct species. But it's sad, really. The population has bottlenecked and will die out soon due to inbreeding and lack of new genetic material. An evolutionary dead end, unfortunately, but living proof of natural selection and adaption to a specific environment. And there was a baby, so cute and of course Evan had to comment upon my maternal concerns but I was only interested from a purely scientific standpoint as regards the population factors and the...oh." She turned to him. He was watching her. Standing. Hands in his pockets. "John? Are you okay? Usually when I ramble on about this stuff you get that glazed, indulgent look and go to your happy place. You know. Guns. Ammo. F-302s."

He smiled. Moved to her. Slid his arms around her. "This is my happy place, Moy. Well, inside your sweet, sweet center is my ultimate happy place."

"John!"

He kissed her. Pulled her against him. "Moira...kiss it and make it better, baby."

She ran her hands up his chest. Ran her mouth along the scratch on his face. "Better, sweetie?"

"Yes. Now kiss my other scratch, baby."

"Hilarious, John." She kissed him. "You're not–"

"Mad? No. I was worried sick, Moira. I was all for charging through the 'Gate after you to bring you home. But Weir stopped me." He drew her to the bed. Sat. "It was a test, Moy."

"A test? I don't understand."

"A test to see if I could handle it," he explained. "You being on Lorne's team. Off-planet. I have to be the military commander, not your husband. Your lover. The father of your baby." He kissed her. Moved her onto her back. "Moira."

"A test? Did you pass, John?" she asked, caressing his arm. She kissed the scratch again.

"Hell if I know," he muttered. Kissing her again. "Moira...all I could think of was you."

"Um, John? Debrief in thirty," she reminded as his hands wandered over her. His mouth gliding along her throat. Intentions all too obvious.

"Huh? De-panty in five?"

She laughed. "Not yet, colonel. Oh John..." She kissed him. Long, slow kisses. Savoring the taste of him. Indulging in his love. She pulled him closer. Slid her mouth up to circle his ear. To bite. To bite harder, eliciting a groan.

"Don't start that, baby, or we will both miss the debrief," he warned. Shifting against her.

"Oh sweetie, sweetie," she purred against his skin, squirming under him, "I have such a craving now. Oh John...John...I crave that big, hard ordnance to–"

"Ssh! Don't tell me any more, baby," he warned. Kissed her.

"Sweetie, I want you to take me again like that. Like last night... oh John...John..." She pulled him closer. Kissing him passionately, shoving her body into his. Legs opening in welcome.

After several kisses he reluctantly broke his mouth from hers. Sat. "Soon, baby, I promise. Debrief first. Then de-panty." He ran a hand through his hair. Sighed.

She sighed. Sat. Kissed him. "Okay, colonel. If that's what you want."

"No, it's not. What I want is to take you on that table until we break it, but we have to do our jobs first. And I've got some footage to show you. Some weird thing we found. Later," he cautioned before she could question him.

She pouted. Watched him stand. Smooth down his shirt, his pants. "John...what thing? John? Can I see it now? Ooh, sweetie, can I see that big, hard ordnance of yours now?"

He turned to her, smiled. "Hush, baby. And no. Footage after coitus. After the debrief. Move that pert little ass, would you?"

She smiled. Tilted her head. "Make me, flyboy."

He grinned. Grabbed her. She yelped as he swung her off the bed. Set her onto her feet and spun her round. Swatted her rear. "Pert little ass! This will have to do...for now, baby."

Moira laughed, squirming as she tried to get free. "John! John, enough! John!" she giggled as he squeezed, squeezed. Spun her round and caught her. Kissed her and dipped her low.

John laughed. Pulled her upright. "Now, behave yourself, doctor, until I order otherwise."

"Yes, sir." She saluted. Kissed him. "Oh John, John, you–"

"No. Now let's go, baby, before I pin you to wall and just take you." He caught her hand, pulled her from the room.

She laughed. "Okay, colonel. I will try to contain myself." She snorted, swatted his rear.

He whirled. "Hey! What did I just tell you, baby! Are you drunk?"

"No! I just want to do you, sweetie. Repeatedly." She smiled at him.

He smiled. "Okay then. After the meeting, Moy. You. Me. Sex. Lots."

"Then the footage?"

"Yes. Deal?"

"Deal, colonel."


	11. Chapter 11

Hierarchy11

Moira sat in the conference room. John had guided her into it, hand at the small of her back. Had refused to go back for her bulky sweater, claiming they would be even later. He had slid his hand down to gently swat her rear before he moved to the head of the table. Moira had taken a seat near the end of the table. Was only half listening as Evan detailed the mission.

She stared at John, raptly gazing in sensual fascination. His lanky form sprawled in the chair as he sat back. Handsome face bearing a serious expression as he listened to the report. Dark brown hair askew as usual, unwilling to be tamed. Brilliant green eyes intent on his subordinate, darting to Jason as he made the occasional comment. John licked his lips briefly. Moira felt a thrill go through her, a rush of desire that made her toes curl in her shoes. She stared at his lips, so soft, so utterly kissable. Especially the lower one she liked to nibble. His strong jaw line shadowed with a hint of stubble. A little roughness that sent a fission of desire along her bare skin. Long kissable neck. Broad shoulders, lean torso encased in the simple black t-shirt. His biceps under the short sleeves. Arms so strong he broke their first headboard. Arms so strong he easily swept her off her feet. Arms so gentle when he carried her, set her down onto the bed.

His hands were clasped together on the table. One finger tapping, tapping, the only indication of his impatience. Hands so strong, so gentle. Hands that could caress with sensual abandon. Could wander everywhere, had wandered everywhere. Long fingers penetrating her, bringing her stroking, probing precision.

Moira shifted on the chair. A flood of desire, of lust overtook her. Made her lower body tighten, dampen, throb just a little as hormones raged. Made her breasts slightly ache, the nipples jutting against the fabric of the green t-shirt she was wearing. She bit her lower lip as a soft, soft sound escaped them. Half whimper, half moan. No one heard.

Except John. His ears caught the sound and he turned his head quickly, recognizing it. He knew every one of Moira's sounds. From teasing foreplay to ecstatic climax. His body reacted to the sound. The sound of arousal, need that made his balls tense, cock stir in his pants. He met her gaze. Deliberately licked his lips slowly. Stared as she freed her lower lip, seemed to melt for a second before she looked down. Embarrassed as his gaze lowered to her breasts and his stare intensified. A slow smile appeared. Quickly Moira folded her arms in front of her, blocking his view. Shifted again on the chair.

"Moira? Moira, did you?"

Moira was jolted. She looked at Elizabeth. "Huh? Sorry, sorry, I was, um, miles away. Did I what?"

"Not miles away," Evan noted. Laughter.

"The animal. Evan said you identified it," Elizabeth prompted. Glanced at John who was watching his wife with studious interest.

"Oh. Yes. I did."

A pause. "And?" Elizabeth prompted.

"An indricotherium."

Another pause. Evan and John exchanged a look. Puzzled by her reticence. "That's it?" Evan asked. "I mean, no further commentary? On the planet you told me all about them and how this specific example differed significantly from the ones on Pleistocene Park. How they had evolved in a new direction to the evolutionary dead end because of the...something about the ecosystem and the genetic..."

"Yes," she agreed.

"And you told me, at great length, I might add," John noted fondly, "how it had evolved into a bottleneck, a dead end and would probably become extinct due to inbreeding and the lack of any new genetic material, and the lack of food sources. Overpopulation."

"Yes," she agreed.

"And?" he prompted.

"And?" she echoed. "I didn't think any of that was relevant to the mission. What is relevant is that the indricotherium is a harmless herbivore. The villagers are in no danger whatsoever, except from its size. Because of its massive girth they shouldn't antagonize the herd and keep clear of the feeding grounds."

Evan smiled. "Oh. That sounds like the way we should treat you in about four or five months." Laughter exploded at the droll comment.

Moira glared. "Evan Lorne!" she scolded, abruptly embarrassed. Angered. She sat back but saw all the men staring at her. She wished again for her sweater. "It's John's fault!" she blurted. More laughter ensued.

"That's true. I take full responsibility for that," John admitted with a smug smile. "Me and my damn sperm, right, Moira?" Laughter.

Moira blushed, flustered. She felt a wave of tears so strong it propelled her out of the chair. "I have more important things to do than to entertain you!" She abruptly left, the laughter chasing her. Mocking her. Embarrassing her.

John stopped laughing. He had seen her distress. Her tears. He stood. "We're done here."

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to upset her," Evan said.

"Thanks a lot, major," John tersely stated. "Now I have to navigate the minefield that is my wife these days."

"Well, sir, it is your fault," Jason noted. Laughter.

John flashed a quick grin. "So it is, major, so it is." He left them laughing. Sobered. Cautiously entered his room. Crossed to theirs. Entered quietly, carefully, as if he were in truth crossing a minefield. "Moy?" She was standing by the table, framed in roses, her back to him. His gaze dropped from the fall of her long ponytail to her rear, snug in the khaki pants. He hoped she wasn't out of her amorous mood. "Moy?"

"Give me a minute!" she snapped. Sighed. Wiped her eyes. "I'm fine! It's these damn hormones!"

"All right, sweetheart. A minute," he soothed. Neared slowly. He touched her shoulders. "Would it make you feel any better if I punched Lorne in the face?"

She smiled. Turned to him. "No, John." She hugged him, hid her face against him. He kissed her brow, arms encircling her.

"Are you sure, Moira? If you want me to I'll do it. I'll deck him a good one. I've been looking for an excuse anyway."

She laughed, moved back to meet his gaze. "No, John. But thanks."

"Any time, baby. For you." He kissed her. A gentle, slow kiss. A prelude to a more passionate encounter. He kept kissing her, caressing her back. "Moira," he whispered low in her ear, "my Moira. How do you want me?"

"John...I...oh John...John..." she slid her body along his, returning his kisses eagerly. Passion growing. Flaring. Her hands slid up his back as his slid down to gently squeeze her rear. "I...I have a...I need..I. need..."

"How do you want me, baby?" he repeated. Kissed down her throat.

She murmured, succumbing to his seductions. His warmth. His love. His protection. "Shower," she whispered into his ear. Circled. Bit.

"Huh? You...oh baby..." His eyes lit up and he grinned. "You know that is one of my favorites."

She smiled. "I know, sweetie. I want you. I want you all to myself, John. Rock hard. Eager. John, John, take it all away, just take it all away..." she muttered, kissing him again. Fresh tears falling.

John couldn't resist her. Yearned to comfort her. Take away all the sorrow, distress. Wanted her all to himself. "I will, baby. Give yourself to me." He kissed her, guiding her backwards to the bathroom. Moira stumbled, turned as he freed her. He eagerly undressed, nearly tripping in his haste. He stripped to his boxers, paused to watch Moira remove her shoes, her socks. Her pants and panties. Free her hair from the ponytail. She leaned over to turn on the water. "Fuck, oh fuck," he muttered, staring as the shirt rode up to reveal her naked rear to him.

Moira looked over her shoulder. Stared at his bare chest, legs. His hands on his shorts, about to remove them. His jutting arousal against the blue checkered fabric. She smirked. "Very cute, sweetie. Nudity is required." She turned away, wiggled provocatively as she lifted her shirt over her head. Flung it back at him. Removed her bra and tossed it towards him. She stepped into the water. She sighed as the hot liquid pounded her like a caress. The noise blocking all other thoughts. Emotions. Silencing the laughter. She gasped, stepped forward as John stepped in behind her. Staring raptly as the water drenched her. Pounded his back.

John touched her shoulders. Flung her hair forward to bare her back. "Moira...relax, sweetheart. It's just the two of us, well, the three of us now. Don't you move, baby."

"John? You...you...I just...look, I know it doesn't make any sense but I...oh!" She sighed, moaned as he kissed her shoulders. Hands running down her sides.

"Makes perfect sense, baby," he said against her skin. He kissed, licked down the curves of her back. Hands sliding round to gently cup and fondle her breasts. His stubble grazed her skin as he slowly worked his way down her spine. Moira arched, shifted. Moaned at the new seductions. He freed her breasts to slide down to the baby bump, then back to her hips as his kisses lowered, lowered, lowered to her rear. He moved to his knees.

"John? Oh John! John, you can't, you can't, you oh God, oh God, oh God!" she stammered in surprise, arousal. Flooded as he kissed down each cheek, gently nibbling, biting to make her squirm, nearly fall.

He groaned, lust flaring. He moved her legs apart. Wider. Slid under her to face her, glancing up to view her drenched, naked body. He kissed along her inner thigh, hands on her hips to steady her.

Moira squirmed, moaned. Whimpered. The tension exciting, the pleasure growing, growing. She gulped as his hands slid up to grab her rear, to squeeze and squeeze, shoving her to his mouth as his lips grazed up to her sensitive folds. He moved onto his knees, licking the water, nibbling the flesh as she squirmed, whimpered. Hands on his wet shoulders, fingers sliding along his wet skin, his hair. He could feel her need, her desire. Smell it. Taste it. The hot water pounding down upon both of them now. Drenching. Escalating as the passion did.

Moira lost her breath, cried out in surprise, desire, alarm as she nearly fell. John taking her aggressively. Squeezing her rear, fingers kneading and probing as his mouth delved deeply, sucking and nibbling. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried, pleaded, begged. Sensations wild, pleasure rippling in waves of heat and lust.

John freed her. "Easy, baby. This will assuage all of your cravings. For now." His voice was low, gruff. So lustful she felt a shiver. She exhaled sharply, tensing as he thrust up, mouth delving deeply again, taking her as deeply as he could. Tasting. Searching. Sucking hard.

Moira whimpered, sobbed. Couldn't breath. Her hands flailed uselessly on his shoulders, in his hair. Slipping and sliding. She nearly fell as the wild possession was almost too much. She cried out in sobbing whimpers as the climax throbbed, pulsed wildly. "John! John!"

He freed her, kissed up her waist, stumbling to his feet. Feeling her intensely, her soft sounds nearly making him come before he had even entered her. His body tense, so tense, balls so tight they hurt, erection so hard it throbbed. Still he held back, kissing up her breasts, licked and sucked each one as he freed her rear to slide his fingers up her back. Making her arch, lean back as if in offering to his eager mouth.

"John! John, John," she cried, grabbing onto his arms.

He kissed up her throat. Nibbled her earlobe. Licked behind her ear, standing up now. He caught her mouth with his. Deep, long kisses. Tongue thrusting into her mouth as he abruptly thrust his cock into her. Found her ripe, ready, snug but open. So wet and warm he shuddered. Groaned loudly and leaned her back a little so she could encompass all of him.

Moira arched, nearly fell as he thrust, thrust. Nearly forgot to breath as he angled her further, staring at her drenched, ripe body. So ripe. So voluptuous. All his to take, to taste, to possess. She whimpered, cried out, reduced to inarticulate sounds as he moved faster, faster, faster. The climax came instantly as he practically thrust her off her feet. The pleasure sharp, vivid. "John! Oh John, John, John!" she cried loudly, as the climax reduced her to a puddle.

John groaned, grunted. Her noises, her oh John litany making him harder as he pounded into her. She clenched and clenched on him and he grabbed her rear, squeezing to keep her in place, to keep her in position as he slid in deeply, wildly. "Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Moira, oh my sweet, sweet Moira!" he exulted, spasms rocking him over and over. He lost himself in the sexual momentum, taking her repeatedly, taking all of her as she took all of him. But he paused suddenly, nearly falling over. He slid out of her, listening. He thought he had heard a knocking at the door, even over their ecstatic cries and moans and the pounding water.

Moira straightened, pulling herself upright, clinging to him. "John? John?" she asked, catching her breath.

"Wait a sec...I need...leverage," he decided, not wanting to dampen or hinder her enthusiasm. "Floor, or bed?" he asked, meeting her gaze.

Moira was staring at him. He was drenched. Hair plastered to his head. Water dripping along his face, his jaw. His chest. Erection still jutting, still hard. She gulped. "Um...floor?"

He smiled. Kissed her. "Go." He followed her out of the shower. Grabbed some towels and flung them onto the floor. Moira was moving back to turn off the water. He caught her, eased her gently onto the towels. "No."

"John? We should turn off the–"

"Camouflage, baby," he argued. He kissed her. Moving over her. "Are you sure, baby? The bed would be much more comfortable."

"No, sweetie. I don't want us soaking wet in our new bed," she said primly.

John laughed.


	12. Chapter 12

Hierarchy12

Moira squirmed. Squirmed. Pushed. "Wait, John, wait!"

"Wait? I don't think can, baby."

She laughed. Pushed him onto his back. She sat, straddled him. Slid along him and kissed him. She ran her mouth down his chest, his waist. Ran her nails down his sides as she gyrated. He moaned. She lifted, took him into her and began to ride him. "Oh John! John, John...oh God, colonel, it's so fucking hard!" she enthused, moving faster. Faster.

John laughed but groaned, hands on her hips to guide her. Steady her. Thrusting up even as she took him to an erotic, rough rhythm. Water splashed onto him from her straggling hair. Her wet body. Her fullerl, bouncing breasts. Rosy nipples hard, luring his mouth. Baby bump sparkling with water. Her mound glistening as he repeatedly filled her. Her fuller rear bouncing deliciously on him. He stared raptly as she arched, moaning with pleasure, possession.

Moira ran her nails along his chest, his waist. Leaned down to kiss him repeatedly, nibbling. He caught her, rolled her onto her back and began to thrust in earnest now. But slowed as a delicious friction made him shiver, made her whimper. "We need the fucking bed," he decided, his voice a raw, growling hunger.

Moira sighed. "Oh John, John, please! No...we...what?" She pulled him closer. Circled his ear and bit. "More!"

He kissed her. "Bed, baby...I don't want you hurt on the floor, or John junior." He slid out, making her sigh again. Moved to his feet, pulling her to him. "Wrap."

"John, we were perfectly fine on the floor!" she complained, but slid her hands up his chest, staring. "My God...you are so beautiful, so..."

He kissed her. Swung her off her feet. "Wet or not we are using the bed, baby, so I can go full fucking throttle and not hurt you."

She kissed his throat as he carried her to the bed. "We need to be quiet, sweetie. Quiet."

"Whatever." He set her on the bed. Yanked the blankets down. "In."

She slid under the blankets. "John? You..."

He smiled, got in beside her. Pushed her onto her back and slid over her. Into her with a groan. "Ah fuck, baby, there it is. Wider, baby, and harder. Here we go, sweetheart." He sighed happily, relishing the feel of her as she encompassed him. Clenched on him and guided him into her. He thrust gently, his frenzied hunger sated at the moment. Indulging in lovemaking now.

"Oh John! Oh John, John...John," she sighed in wonder, her voice a whisper as he prolonged the pleasure, delayed the orgasm.

He trailed kisses on her lips, down her throat, moaning as the pleasure increased. As he felt his own hunger increasing, demanding. He held it back. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! Moira, my Moira...how's that, baby? Nice and sweet, gentle and slow for John junior."

Moira squirmed, hands sliding along his bare back, kissing him repeatedly. Tasting, teasing. Clenching on him, biting to make him groan, thrust harder, faster. "Oh John, yes! Yes! John, John, please, please, go full throttle, now, please oh John!"

"Ssh, baby," he cautioned, amused and enamored. "Here we go...across the finish line into orbit. All g-forces at work," he teased, increasing momentum. The bed began to rock. The headboard slammed musically as it hit the wall. He shuddered as the release hit, groaned loudly.

"John! Oh John, John!" she cried but softened her voice. Purring his name as the orgasm swirled, flooded. She rode the waves of pleasure, arching, clenching, clutching as he thrust faster, faster, deeper. Filling every inch of her. So close his chest hair brushed her breasts. His mouth taking hers. Tongue gliding expertly to enhance the sex.

He freed her mouth, slid out after one more thrust. One final release. He grunted in pleasure, relief. Laid on her, catching his breath. Kissed up her throat, stroking her side. He shifted his weight off her. "Moira...baby, sweetheart. Snuggest, wettest little pussy in two galaxies," he breathed hotly into her ear.

"John! Shut up!" She swatted his rear. Shifting as the pleasure eased, eased. "Really, colonel! I expect better language now that you've come. Even a man like you with the hardest, biggest, most dexterous cock should be capable of more romance."

He laughed. "You got that right, baby, but screw the romance. I'm the sex guy."

"John...I...um...I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" He raised his head to meet her gaze. "For sex? Never, baby."

"I'm serious, John. These...these damn hormones...these cravings...the way I, I overreact to everything...you...I can't...I mean..." she stammered, flustered.

He smiled, kissed her. Caressing her side, her breast. "I see. It's all right, Moira." He rolled off her, contented. Sighed happily. "After all, who could blame you? How could you not want, no, crave a gorgeous guy like me? As often as you can get me between your legs, hmm?"

She rolled onto her side, stared. His voice was solemn. But she saw his smirk. The sparkle of mischief in his brilliant green eyes. "John Sheppard!" She hit his arm. He laughed. "You arrogant son of a–"

"What? It's true, isn't it, Moy? Besides, you have no idea how I lust after you every fucking day. It's a wonder I can keep it down as often as I do."

"Shut up, John! You do not!" she argued.

"It's true, Moira. Your cravings are mine." He smiled as she slid onto him. Pulling the blankets over their naked, sweaty bodies. She kissed him. Ran her kisses along his throat. "Ah, baby...relax." He stroked her bare back. "Everything's fine. I'll take care of you, don't you worry. Relax now. You're under my purview, baby. No one else's."

She snuggled on top of him. "John...oh John. Stay with me, please."

"Of course, Moy. Go to sleep. I'm so tired...but wow. With all of these delicious cravings I may have to keep you pregnant all of the time."

"John! It's not funny!"

He laughed. "Yes it is, baby. Just think of the sex, Moira!"

"Shut up! Like you think of anything else," she grumbled.

He laughed again. "I think of other things. Just can't quite recall them now, though."

"Hilarious, John. Shut up."

"Shutting up, Moy. Relax."

She sighed. Scrambled off him, sitting and wrapping the blanket around her. "We can't! Look at us, John! Having sex, wild sex in the middle of the afternoon! We've got jobs to do! We can't just lounge around in bed after glorious sex like that! Like this, I mean! Can we? I...John?" She looked at him. He was watching her, smiling. Trying not to laugh. "John! Damn it, John, it's not funny! It's not funny!" she snapped, feeling tears again.

He sat. Pulled her to him, yanking the blanket off her. Kissed her deeply. Guided her onto her back again. "It is funny, baby, so don't be so damn upset, all right? If we want to fuck all day we will. Don't you worry, baby. I'll take it all away again. Shall I, Moira? Take it all away again. So fucking sweet," he said into her ear, against her skin. Body moving along hers.

Moira clutched, clung, felt him becoming aroused. She pushed, stared. "John? John?"

He smiled. "You. I want you, Moira. I'll take it all away, baby, as often as is necessary. I love you, Moy." He rolled onto his side, pulled her gently to him. "Sleep, baby. We are staying in this bed for a nap. Don't you worry."

"I...I'm sorry, John, I..."

"Ssh." He kissed her. "Sleep, Moira. No need for a Moira storm. I'm right here."

"I just...I can't...John, John, it's just so..." she stammered, uncertain. Secure in his arms, in his love. "I..." Her fingers plied his chest hair. Gently tugging. Caressing. Fingered the dog tags, the silver chain. "I just...I'm pregnant, John."

He smiled. "I know, Moira. With my son. Got it." He settled comfortably. "Sleep, baby. I'm sure a nap is in our schedule somewhere. Along with sex."

She sighed. Sat again, wrapping the blanket around her. She looked at him. He rolled onto his back, stretching comfortably. A content, sated expression on his handsome face as he closed his eyes. Folded his arms up under the pillow. She bit her lower lip, thinking. "John?"

He inwardly sighed, wanting nothing more than to fall into a relaxing doze after such exquisite, satisfying sex. "Yes, Moira?"

"I...um...I was fine on the mission. I mean it went well. I was fine, and so was John junior, so you didn't need to worry about me. I mean you don't have to worry about me. On missions. I...we need to go to Pleistocene Park, John. So I can compare the subspecies of indriocotheriums we discovered to those on Pleistocene Park. Okay?"

"Okay, Moira," he agreed, not opening his eyes.

"Okay? Okay, John. Oh! What was that footage? John? John? The footage you wanted to show me. What was it? Another animal?"

"No. It can wait, Moira."

"Can it? What was it, John?" She waited, but he was silent. Eyes still closed. She touched his chest, his arm. "John? We should probably get up, get dressed and go back to work. I, I don't want you getting any flak because your pregnant wife wants to fuck your brains out. John?"

He smirked. "Whatever, baby." He rolled onto his side away from her. "Sleep."

"John!" She touched his shoulder. Caressed his bare arm. "I'm sorry. I just...um...look, I just need you to...um...it's not easy, John. Okay? This whole...this whole, um...thing. You. Me. Sex. The baby. My, um, changes. Okay? I...I don't know what to do."

"Sleep." His voice was drowsy, already drifting into a pleasant slumber. "Easy. You. Me. Sex. The baby. Changes beautiful. Ssh."

She smiled. Kissed his shoulder. "I love you, John."

"Love you, Moy. Ssh," he mumbled.

She kissed his shoulder again. Sat close, staring round the room. Relaxing, but unable to sleep. Thoughts flitting over everything at once. John's warm, solid body next to her. Reassuring. She sighed. Twirling a strand of hair round and round her finger. "You know, John, it was odd," she said softly, not knowing if he was listening or fast asleep. Speaking anyway. "I mean, Evan said that Weir wanted me to go on that mission. Maybe for your test, I don't know. It's probably nothing. I've just never been singled out like that before, you know. It's probably nothing. I might be getting as paranoid as you, sweetie. Because of the baby." She touched the baby bump, frowning. "Because of the sex. Because of this enhanced ATA. I don't know."

She sighed. Settled next to him, cuddling against his back. She touched his arm. "John? I want to go on missions. It's not that. As long as I'm not a liability to my team, of course. It's just...well, weird. Is all. That. And if you really don't like it I won't go, even if she orders me to go. I mean...I don't want you placed in a difficult position because of me. It was probably nothing. Go to sleep, John, we should be resting!" She closed her eyes, snuggling.

John smiled, but his smile faded. He opened his eyes. Had been listening to her every word despite wanting to fall asleep. Wanting to ignore everything except the pleasant aftermath of exuberant sex and Moira's love.

He stared at the table across the room. Thinking.


	13. Chapter 13

Hierarchy13

John rolled in the bed. Heard munching sounds. He opened his eyes. Moira was seated at the table, two covered trays in front of her. She was eating some chips. Appeared distraught. Ponytail in place. Bulky blue sweater buttoned around her, all the way up to her chin. He sat.

"Moy? Is that all for you?" he gently teased, wondering what the problem was.

She looked over. Smiled at him. "Shut up, John! No...but it will be if you don't move that fine, fine ass of yours and get over here! No!" She held up a hand. "Get dressed first!"

He laughed. "I was planning to get dressed, sweetheart. Is that our dinner?" He got out of the bed, moved to his bathroom, picking up his discarded clothing along the way.

Moira turned to uncover the trays. "Yes. I wanted to surprise you so I went to the cafeteria and got this. But I forgot and I was so stupid, but the food is hot. And I got you a beer, sweetie. Okay? John?"

"Okay, Moira. Fine. Forgot what?" He cleaned up, washing his face, his hands. Pulled on his black t-shirt and boxers, the gray pants. At her silence he emerged, moved to sit next to her. Eyed the food. Eyed her. "Moira?"

"Katie told me that Rodney needs me to initialize the Impulse Blocker he's assembled, in about an hour. Okay, John? John, will you, will you go with me?"

"Of course, Moy. What did you forget?" he persisted, seeing her tension, her dismay.

"Eat. I'm starving!"

"Take off the sweater," he advised. "You don't need to hide those luscious curves from me, baby."

"Hilarious, John." She began to eat.

He inwardly sighed, followed her example. "I'm starving too," he remarked, deciding to let it be until after they had eaten. He took a big bite out of the burger.

She looked at him, snatching some fries from his plate. At his scowl she smiled. "Are you ravenous, John? I wonder why, sweetie? Oh, I know. Poor colonel, submitting to the sexual demands of his wife."

John swallowed, laughed. "Submitting? Excuse me? Hmm...I think you were the one submitting, baby. To me."

"Really, sweetie? Who was on their knees again? Oh, that's right. You."

"Who was begging me, begging me for more? Oh, that's right. You," he retorted.

"Shut up, John."

He laughed. "I won." He devoured his dinner, sipped his beer as he watched her. The fall of her ponytail against the bulky blue sweater. Her healthy appetite as she ate her burger, the potato salad, the fries. Sipping her water.

Moira finished. Wiped her mouth. Met his gaze. "What? I was hungry."

"You have no idea, do you?"

"Look, John, I'm hungry, okay? I am eating for two, you know! Thanks to you and your damn sperm! I can't help it if I am hungry and need to–"

"No, not that, sweetheart. You are glowing. Radiant from the pregnancy, from our lovemaking. You have no idea how fucking beautiful you are," he praised.

Moira stood abruptly, nearly knocking into the table. "Stop teasing me! Soon, soon I'll be as big as a, as a house! Evan was right! And now, now...I can't even fit my clothes properly!" She moved to the dresser. Yanked it open. She unbuttoned the sweater, pulled it off. "I was stupid! So stupid! I was so happy, so content that I forgot. I wanted to surprise you so I ran out of here without my, my sweater, and I forgot how damn tight this stupid, stupid shirt is now!" She peeled off the green t-shirt, flung it to the floor. Searched the drawer. "I hate it, John! I hate it! I don't know what the hell to wear half of the time!" She pulled on a woven off-white shirt, buttoned it after closing the drawer. "I'm popping out of everything, well, nearly everything! I mean, I mean I don't mind if you, if you look at me I mean, I like you looking at me...when you look at me like that I feel attractive, I feel pretty, even, I feel desirable because you love me. You love me. But I know it's also because you want to get into my pants but that's okay too because I want you in my pants, John, I do. Oh God I do...you don't know how much I want your...and then, but when other men stare, stare at me. Stare not even at me but at my breasts like they've never seen a woman before! So I wear the sweater and that sweatshirt you hate but only you seem to like my ass but I could be wrong. I forgot the sweater in my haste to, to surprise you and I was so stupid! So...they were all staring, all over me like I was some kind of lab specimen or, or...oh go ahead! Go ahead and laugh, John! I know you want to laugh because you think all of this is just so fucking hilarious!" She took a breath, exhausted. Surprised at how fast it had all come out of her. So suddenly.

John was staring at her. Listening attentively , despite the distraction of her taking off the sweater, then her shirt. The fall of her ponytail along her back, obscuring the bra. Amused at first, trying not to laugh. Fondly dismissing her concerns, not understanding how blind she was to her beauty when it was obvious to him. He grew concerned, hearing how men, other men were staring at her. Knew they would notice her curves, see her voluptuousness. Enhanced by her clothes now. He heard the real distress in her voice. He stood. Moved to her. "Who?"

Moira tensed. Could feel him behind her. So close. His voice low. Serious. Not a trace of mirth in it. She frowned. Had expected his laughter, his sarcasm, even. Not that tone. She turned to him. Bit her lower lip a moment at his solemn expression. "I...sorry. I had to get that off my...that is to say out of my system. Rodney is waiting." She tried to move past him but he gently caught her arm, stopping her.

"Who?" he repeated.

"Huh?" Moira didn't understand the question. Lost in his brilliant green eyes. Their intensity. Gravity. His handsome face solemn. A hint of danger making her shift slightly. "Oh...I, I don't know. I...it doesn't matter. John, let's go see Rodney and then we can–"

"No. Who?" He drew her into his arms. Kissed her gently. "Who, Moira? Give me names. I'll put a stop to it, sweetheart, don't you worry."

His intense, low voice made her stare. React. She could feel the anger below the surface. Like a living thing. Passion. Protectiveness. His gaze dropped to her breasts, back to her face. "I...I don't know. I mean, I mean...in general. John, John, it doesn't matter. I'm overreacting and overly sensitive and don't pay attention to me I'll be fine shouldn't we be seeing Rodney right now? I'll go alone!"

He kissed her again. "Moira, my Moira. I want names. Or just point them out to me. I don't care which. How many?"

She touched his chest. Stared at her hands there. "I...I don't know. I...it's nothing, John! I'm sorry, okay?" She pulled free. Grabbed the sweater and pulled it over her. Buttoned it quickly. "I have to go see Rodney now. Don't listen to me, John. I don't know what I'm saying half the time. Sorry. I'm sorry!" She moved to the door.

John followed, silently walked with her. His narrowed gaze fell on every man who happened to pass them. Scrutinizing where they looked. How they looked. The length of their stare. Moira's steps quickened. She was uncomfortable, embarrassed. John easily kept pace with her.

"It's...it's the lovemaking," she suddenly said.

"What?" he asked, thrown for a moment.

"The, the sex," she whispered, clarifying. "Overhearing the sex. Why I'm so, so...um, sensitive. To, to my, um..."

"Beauty?" he supplied.

"Hilarious, John. No! My, um, my changes. People staring. Like that. Overhearing us when we...you know. Then my changes and my...um...sorry."

"You've nothing to apologize for, Moira. Don't you worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of it. Of everything. And you are beautiful. Always have been. Now, now it's just overwhelming."

"Stop teasing me, John, it's not nice! You don't have to pretend just to get into my oof!"

He stopped her suddenly, pushed her gently against a wall, startling her. "Stop it, Moy. I'm not teasing. Not at all. Do I sound like I'm teasing?" he asked earnestly. Seriously.

She stared. Thrown by his demeanor. "Um...um...no. I guess not...but..."

He kissed her. "Good. Let's go. The sooner we can get this done the sooner you can ID the men I have to kill." He led her to the physics lab.

"John? You are teasing now, right?"

"Does it sound like I'm teasing?" he asked.

"Um, no. But you are, of course. Aren't you? John? John?" she wondered. Feeling both anxiety and a thrill. "John?"

He ignored her, leading her into the lab. "Rodney, make this quick. Moira and I have things to do. Where's the Wraith Detector?"

"Impulse Blocker," Rodney corrected, met his gaze. "You didn't have to come, John. Oh, what am I thinking? Of course you did. Moira, if you could activate those two pieces on the–"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" John snapped, leading her to the console.

"Nothing. Just another observation, that's all," Rodney replied affably. "Now, Moira, right there, along the sides and gently push the–"

"An observation?" John persisted, stopping Moira before she could touch the components.

"Yes. Your lovey-dovey Sheppard land. Now, Moira, you will need to concentrate and–"

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"John!" Moira sighed, pushed him to one side. "Sorry, Rodney. I upset him. Now, I need to concentrate, right? And you said to push these two pieces together?"

"You know, Moira," Rodney baited with a sneer, "John said that being married to you was nice. Is it nice? Just...nice?"

"You son of a–" John glowered.

"John, please!" She caught his arm. Freed it. "Yes, Rodney, it is nice. Now, the Impulse Blocker?"

Disappointed at her reaction he sighed. "Yes. Those two pieces, together. See where the interface is? As you push them together I need you to concentrate on powering the device. I've had to use Ancient tech a bit so you need to activate it at the same time."

"Okay." She took hold. Gently pushed the two pieces together. Power flared. She closed her eyes to concentrate, to visualize the various components acting in harmony. She felt John's hand on the small of her back suddenly.

"Whoa! Don't overpower it, Moira! Easy there!"

"Sorry!" She opened her eyes, freed it. "Does it work?"

Rodney was scanning the device. "Yes...I think so. At least it has power. Now if I can somehow keep it running, attach it to the Stargate we'd be in business. And maybe develop a smaller, more portable version for missions."

"To block any Wraith subsonic pulses," she remarked.

"Yes, exactly. Depending upon the frequencies, of course. And ranges...and distances...and the whole mind to mind thing..." he muttered.

Moira glanced at John. His hand was still on her back as he stood protectively close, glaring at Rodney. "It wouldn't work if that storm returned, would it? Since that was a visual attack on the subconscious. Giving us those terrible nightmares."

"It wouldn't work," Rodney agreed. "Different frequencies and, as you said a visual as opposed to a more mental, or even auditory...well..." he snapped his fingers several times. "Maybe if we oscillated the frequencies to break up any interference...it's all about affecting the mind, right?"

"Yes, in various ways." She looked at John again. "What do you think, John? Didn't you realize it was an attack before anyone else?"

"He thinks everything is an attack, but in this case he was right," Rodney admitted.

"Yes. And I am sick of these attacks," he commented sourly. "Comments. Snide remarks. Staring. Jealousy."

"What?" Rodney asked.

"What?" Moira echoed. Realized. "Oh no! John, no! Please, I'm sorry. Just leave it, please!" She sighed. "Not Rodney," she whispered.

"Not Rodney? Not Rodney what?" Rodney asked.

"Yes Rodney. What? What do you mean by all these comments and remarks about me? About my wife? About lovey-dovey Sheppard land?"

"What? What's that?" Moira smiled. "Rodney, our marriage is hardly lovey-dovey Sheppard land. Well...not all of the time," she gushed, glanced at John lovingly. She touched his arm. "But sometimes...oh sometimes..."

"Don't, Moira. We don't have to explain ourselves to anyone. Got it? I don't give a crap."

"Lighten up, John," Rodney said, shaking his head. "It was only a joke!"

"Well, I don't think it's funny, so cut that crap now! Are we done here?"

"Yes. Wow, Moira...I guess you were right about it not being always lovey-dovey."

She laughed. "Yes. But it is always nice. Let's go, John, before your mood worsens. Great, just great," she muttered as she led him out of the room, "there's nothing worse than a bad-tempered colonel."

"Try a bad-tempered pregnant wife if you ow!" John protested as she pinched his arm before he could complete his sentence.


	14. Chapter 14

Hierarchy14

Moira led John down the hallway. His hand firmly clasped in hers. "John, lighten up."

"Lighten up? After that tirade back in our room? I don't think so, baby. I want names. I'm not letting anyone upset you, Moira. Anyone. I don't give a shit who it was! Give me names! Were they scientists? Marines? Technicians? Moira!"

"Hush!" She turned to him as they stopped. "John, they were men. Just men. I overreacted, okay? That's all. Leave it alone, please. I'll adjust. This is all new to me. All of it, so please just bear with me and my crazy moods, my irascible behavior, my stupid insecurities, and my insatiable sexual desires, okay?"

His lips quirked but he remained serious. "No. It's not okay, Moira. You can't be upset. It's not good for you or for John junior. So give me the names and I will eliminate the problem."

She sighed. Touched his chest, stepping close to him. "Look, John...I'm sorry. Okay? You, you probably wish you had a more, more normal wife, I mean, a more well-adjusted wife, less prone to, to emotional outbursts and mood swings and, and rambling. One who isn't...who isn't..." She felt tears, voice falling to a whisper, "isn't...so...isn't so...I love you, John!"

John inwardly sighed again. Wondered if all pregnant women were like this, or just his Moira. He drew her close, into his arms. Kissed her. "Moira, hush. Just tell me the names and I'll–"

"No!" She drew back from him. Angry. "You think that will make it better? It won't! It won't, John, because it's me! Me! Not them! So don't you go all alpha male and start bullying and blustering because I won't have it, I won't! Why don't you help me, John?"

"Then tell me what will make it better? What will make you better, damn it?" he flared, irritated.

She stared. Whirled. "Fuck you, John!"

"Would that do it, Moy? Would it?" he shouted after her as she strode down the hall. He sighed. Considered. Followed after her. "Moira!" He glanced round but they were momentarily alone in the hallway. "Moira! '_How shall I fix you, fire you, freeze you? Break my heart at your feet to please you? Oh to possess and be possessed!" _he quoted. The anger still in his voice.

Moira froze. A gasp escaping her lips as she recognized the lines. His voice thrumming with anger. Quoting poetry of all things to her. "You...you found my book of Browning?" she asked, amazed. Afraid to turn lest he laugh, or mock.

John stepped to her. Placed his hands on her shoulders, steering her into a empty room. He stepped close, very close. Quoted into her ear, "'_Dear rose, thy joy's undimmed. Thy cup is ruby-rimmed. Thy cup's heart nectar-brimmed. Deep, as drops from a statue's plinth. The bee sucked in by the hyacinth. So will I bury me while burning. Quench like him at a plunge my yearning. Eyes in your eyes, lips on your lips. Fold me fast where the cincture's slips. Prison all my soul in eternities of pleasure.'" _

Moira gasped, startled. The warm pressure of his hands on her shoulders. His low voice, intimate in her ear. His warm breath caressing, teasing. The words erotic the way he spoke them. Every word given a sensual intonation in his husky voice.Leaving no doubt as to how he intended them. "Fuck," she muttered.

John chuckled. "I expect better language from a doctor, baby. Too much romance? I rather like those particular lines, baby. Every word."

She turned to him, brown eyes wide. Wet. Lips parted. "John...you...you...oh John!" She flung herself into his arms, kissing him generously. Kiss after kiss, not caring where they were.

John returned her kisses, guiding her body along his. Not caring where they were either as she was calmer, was amorous. "Wow...I guess this crap really works, huh?" he teased.

She laughed. "John! Oh John! John, you are always–"

"Better, baby? About fucking time!" he groused, but smiled. Kissed her lengthily. Guiding her gently against a wall. Body sliding, shoving along hers now."Moira. My Moira. I love you, Moy. I will make this all better," he said into her ear.

"What better?" she asked dreamily. "Oh John, John, you are so...oh." She froze, hearing a cough. Looked round his shoulder. She blushed. "Um, John...I think we're in someone's room."

"Huh?" He was kissing along her throat. One hand sliding into the sweater to grasp a breast. He freed her. Turned slowly. Smirked. A very surprised but amused Ronon was sitting on his bed, almost hidden in the darkness. "Oh. Hi."

Ronon snorted. "Hi, Sheppard. Did you need the room?"

"No!" Moira pushed, stepped away from the wall. "Sorry, Ronon! Sorry, we weren't going to, to, to do anything!"

"We weren't?" John asked, raising a brow.

"John! Now we certainly aren't!" Ronon laughed. "I've got work to do! I will see you later, colonel! Sorry, Ronon!" She fled the room.

John laughed as did Ronon. He met the Satedan's gaze. "Sorry about that. We were in the middle of a thing and it just sort of...well...anyway...um..." He headed for the door. Turned back, raising a finger. "And if any word of that poetry stuff gets out I will personally assign you to McKay duty twenty-four seven."

Ronon laughed, held up his hands. "All right, Sheppard. Your poetry-quoting is safe with me." He snorted. "Didn't work anyway."

John smiled. "Not yet anyway. But it will."

Moira hastened to the secondary biology lab. Flustered at being observed, at having invaded Ronon's room. Charmed and surprised by John's quoting poetry of all things to her. The taste of his mouth lingering on her lips.. The feel of his body along hers, promising passion, pleasure. "Sorry, sorry I'm late! I was, um consulting with John on a matter and we had to what's this?"

Julie and Katie were surrounded by marines. The men were busily grabbing files, books. Consoles and data pads. Trying to herd the two women out of the room but without success.

"These brutes are confiscating everything!" Katie complained.

Moira moved to them. "Wait! On whose authority?" she asked.

"Weir's," Julie answered. Exchanged a glance with her.

"Stop!" Moira snatched back a data pad, placed it on the console.

"We are following orders, doctor," the man argued.

"I don't care! Does Colonel Sheppard know about this?" Moira flared.

"Our orders are from Doctor Weir," the man stated, annoyed at yet more interference. "To take all of this research being done here and lock down the site until further notice. Now move aside so we can dismantle this console and erase all of the data to–"

"What? That's ridiculous! Let go of that!" Moira argued, bewildered. She moved to the console, restoring the power.

"You need to stand down!" Julie agreed. "Call Colonel Sheppard and see if he–"

"Let it go, ma'am! I have my orders!" The marine caught her arm, yanking her back from the console.

"Let go of her!" Katie cried.

"Berkley, hands off!" another man reproached.

"Let go of me!" Moira struggled. The marine pulled, pushed. Moira stumbled, fell into the console hard.

"Moira! Oh my God! Are you all right?" Katie rushed to her side.

"What are you doing, Berkley? She's pregnant!"

"That's Sheppard's wife!"

"Moira, are you okay?"

The voices all ran together. Moira winced as pain briefly flared as she hit the console. Knocking the baby bump. She put her hand there, the other slamming down on the console. Power flared. A gasp sounded beside her. A shout behind her. She heard a commotion, a weird energized sound that made her hair stand on end.

She turned to see a sudden force field appear out of nowhere. Enveloping the console and the three women. The marines stumbled backwards as it emitted some kind of energy, zapping the floor with quick discharges. One man yelped, fell to his knees. One raised his gun. "Oh oh," she muttered, frozen in place as she viewed the men through the blue, crackling field.

"Stand down! Oh shit, oh shit!" a man panicked, tapping his earpiece. "Control room! We have a situation here a, oh shit!" The radio crackled with static.

"Moira, what are yo doing?" Katie asked, touching her arm. "Are you okay?"

Moira glanced at her. "I...I don't know...I..."

"Power is escalating," Julie said, eying a data screen as it flared to life, scrolling data. All kinds of data. "Moira, honey, you might want to let it go now."

"I...I can't! I can't control it!" Moira exclaimed.

John heard the alarm. He sprinted into the control room to see Rodney rushing to a console. "What the hell is that? What–"

"Energy levels spiking! Like an overloading ZPM in the...in bio two. What the...John?" Rodney looked up but John has spun on his heels, was gone. He swore, ran after his friend.

John froze halfway in the room. Staring in disbelief. A vivid blue force field surrounded a console and his wife, her two friends. A whining hum was growing louder, louder. The hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck stood up as the air was charged. Marines were standing round, guns raised, but at his entrance they lowered them, straightened. "Moira?"

"What the..." Rodney skidded to a halt near John. He cautiously approached the force field. "Katie? Katie, can you power it down?"

"No! Rodney, it's out of control!" she replied, relieved to see the physicist.

"What the hell happened here? Matthews!"

"Sir! We were removing all research materials and shutting down the lab per Doctor Weir's orders when he tried to stop your wife and grabbed her, shoved her into the–"

"I didn't shove her! She was resisting a direct order and she fell–"

"Power's accelerating! We have to get them out of there, John, now!"

John ignored the swarm of voices, honing in on only one. He looked at Moira. "Moira, are you okay?" he asked. Voice terse.

She nodded, staring at him. "John, I...I can't make it stop! I–"

"Easy, Moira, you will. Stand down." He turned slowly. Eyed the men. "Who? Who put hands on my wife?" he asked, voice low.

"Berkely, sir, he–" began a marine.

The shot rang out. Loud. The force field crackled, spewed discharge in the air. Katie screamed. Rodney yelped. Berkely fell to the floor. Dead. A single shot to his head. A kill shot. A pool of crimson began to spread under his head.

John blinked. Looked at the gun in his hand. Didn't even remember drawing it out of his holster. Clicking the safety off. Aiming for the kill shot. Firing. He looked at Berkley. He looked at Moira. She was staring, one hand on the baby bump. The other seemingly glued to the console. Power was surging in the machine. Data wildly scrolling, lights blinding, bright. Calmly John clicked on the safety. Restored the gun to his holster. "No one puts hands on my wife," he said simply. Voice cold. Dispassionate. Gaze lethal. He eyed the men. "Get this cleaned up. Your orders are rescinded." He stepped over the body, as if it were no more than a piece of trash to avoid. Stepped to the force field. "Moira."

Moira swallowed. Blinked. "John..I..I can't, I can't..."

"Of course you can, sweetheart. Relax. I'm here now. I need you to lower this force field. You know I don't like anything between us. Power it down, Moira. Nice and gentle now."

"I tried! I can't, I can't let it–"

"Yes, you can, Moira. Close your eyes. Go on. Listen to my voice." Moira hesitated, heart racing with panic. But she forced her eyes shut. "Good. Now, Moira, picture the power going down. Like a bright light slowly fading, okay? Dimming to a soft glow, then to darkness." He waited, considering. Gaze locked onto her, onto the rising levels of power displayed on the screens as they almost sparkled. "This blue...this shade of blue is pretty, isn't it, Moira? It would be a good color for John junior's room. But I would prefer a darker blue. A more manly shade of blue for my son. Nothing too babyish or even slightly feminine."

Moira smiled. "Oh please! Soft blue is fine for the baby, John. And he is a baby! He won't care if it's manly or not, as long as it is pleasing. Pretty. Soothing to the eye. I don't know how we are going to paint those walls, John, I mean, they're not like normal walls. Well, you know what I mean, like walls we could paint because of that Lantean decoration, the water bubbling and all. I bet the baby will quite like that, it's almost like an aquarium and oh!" Feeling hands on her she opened her eyes. John was gently grasping her arms, smiling at her. "Hi."

"Hi." He drew her away from the console. "Rodney, shut it down, please."

"Doing it! I can't believe...I can't...John, the power levels were unprecedented! If this had been a ZPM it could have overloaded! That double ATA is incredible! If we could harness that power, somehow control it or–"

"I'm sorry! I...I couldn't...I..." Moira faltered. Everyone was staring at her. She looked at her husband. He was watching her. As if she was the only one in the room. "John?"

"It's fine, Moira. Don't you worry." His gaze lowered and he touched her hand at the baby bump. "Are you sure you're okay? Let's have Carson take a look, shall we?"

"I'm fine, John, don't you worry," she echoed, uncertain. "I–

"But I do worry, Moira. So let's have Carson see how John junior is." He turned. "Rodney, make sure it's completely inert."

"Gee, why didn't I think of that, John? Hmm, what a good idea!"

"Rodney," John warned. "Doctor Brown, Doctor Armstrong, please gather all of this research and keep it in the biology lab. Matthews, I want a full report in twenty! Let's go, Moira."


	15. Chapter 15

Hierarchy15

Carson smiled. Ran the scanner slowly over Moira's abdomen. "A bit of a bump, you say?" he asked, as the images were displayed on a larger monitor next to the bed.

John was staring at Moira, then to the screen. "She was shoved into a console and–"

Moira sighed, staring at the screen to see the image of the baby inside her. "It was more like a knock, when you bang your elbow? It's fine now, doesn't even hurt. Oh look! John, there!" She pointed.

"He's fine. Shifted a bit, but that's to be expected as he gets bigger. Strong heartbeat. Good development. He appears to be in no distress whatsoever," Carson assured. Glanced at them. John and Moira were staring at the screen, enthralled by the sight of the fetus. "If you have any discomfort, Moira, page me immediately. But you'll be fine."

"Thank you, Carson. Look, John! He's so small!" she marveled. John smiled, touched her abdomen gently. "He moved! John! Did you see that? He responded to your touch!"

Carson gently chuckled. "Probably just a coincidence, Moira. But yes, love. He'll only be getting more active as he gets bigger."

"But he's fine? You're sure? And Moira's fine?" John asked, still eying the screen. He glanced at Moira's abdomen as she gently pushed his hand off her, pulled down the shirt. Closed the sweater around her as the screen's image abruptly faded when the scanner was withdrawn.

"Yes, John. They are both fine."

"Even with her accessing all of that power? I mean through her ATA and his–"

"Yes, John. No harm done. No strain at all on the baby. Moira, how do you feel?"

"Fine." She looked from one man to the other. "Now. I...I was upset. I was...I couldn't seem to stop it...but I did...once John calmed me down and then I could think clearly, not just react and..."

"John! What is this about you shooting a man! A man following my orders and..." Elizabeth's voice faltered as she neared. Seeing Moira on the bed, appearing flustered. John standing close, so close, his hand resting on her abdomen again for a moment. Carson on the other side of the bed, scanner in his hands.

Moira tensed, but John leaned close. Brushed his lips across hers. Straightened. "Ah." He turned. Smiled. "Yes. We need to have a talk, Elizabeth. Let me preface it by saying that any man who lays hands on my wife, whether under orders or not will meet the same fate. Now, if you–"

"John! You–" Moira began, moving but he blocked her ability to get off the bed.

"–want to give my marines orders, that's fine, but I do need to be informed. Chain of command and all, remember? There was no reason to confiscate that research or to shut down bio two. Everything was under control and–" John continued, ignoring his wife.

"Under control? John, you shot someone! One of your own men!"

"He didn't mean to! He–" Moira tried to intervene.

"I did mean to," John corrected calmly. "And I'll do it again, if necessary. That's not the issue here. The issue here is–"

"It is the issue! John, you shot one of your own men!" Elizabeth reiterated, shocked by his almost callous, offhand demeanor over it. She glanced at Moira as the other woman was awkwardly moving off the bed. "Moira, what happened down there?"

"What happened?" John repeated, before his wife could reply. "I'll tell you exactly what happened! You ordered my men, without even bothering to tell me to take over bio two and shove anyone out of the way! What happened? My wife, my pregnant wife was injured and inadvertently caused a power surge that could have potentially harmed her further not to mention the city! What happened? My wife and my son were in needless danger and you–"

"John!" Moira took his arm, standing close to him. Finally able to interrupt. To stop his increasingly hostile flow of words. "Please! It's not like that! It wasn't–"

"I never intended Moira to be injured! How could you even think that? But you...you shot one of your own men! John, I can't countenance that, no matter what the circumstances! You–"

"I don't care. I really don't," he said simply. Glanced at Moira who was holding onto his arm tightly, as if to restrain him. "Moira, you should be resting. Let's go."

"John! Damn it, John, we will discuss this!" Elizabeth flared, standing in their way. Hands on her hips as she glared at him. "I had every right to give the order to secure that research! To empty that lab! Research that I had no idea was even being pursued! A lab that by all rights shouldn't even have been operating! I am sorry that people were hurt, however slightly, but you had no right, no right to go and shoot someone over it!"

"Doctor Weir, John was very upset and he–" Moira tried to ameliorate.

"People? People! My wife! My pregnant wife, damn it! My pregnant wife whom you sent on a mission! You insisted she go on that mission! Why? To get her out of the way or to test me? To test her? To test my wife? Do you have any idea the pressure Moira is under? What she is going through every day? Every day! All the changes she's going through, trying to take care of herself, of the baby, of me, doing her job, doing five projects at once and still going on missions?"

"John," Moira tried to temporize, tugging his arm.

"Not to mention having to put up with all the flak and crap we always receive because we dare to be happy, to be in love, to be passionate about each other still? She needs to be safe! She needs to be happy! She needs to be allowed to do her job here in the city and not be pestered by petty concerns and jealousy! She needs to be left alone and so do I, damn it!"

"John!" Moira sighed, stepped in front of him. "I'm sorry. We had a slight scare with the baby but everything is fine."

"Slight? Moira, it wasn't–"

"John!" she snapped, halting his rebuttal. "Look, let's all calm down, all right? Tomorrow. Tomorrow we can talk rationally, without so much emotion. Carson?"

"Yes, love, that's an excellent idea. Let's sleep on it and talk in the morning," he agreed.

"Thank you. I need something to eat. Again." She sighed. "John, please come with me. Shall we meet in your office in the morning?" she asked, eying Elizabeth again.

"No. We need to discuss this now," Elizabeth stated, her gaze locked onto John. "I can't have you continually circumventing my authority here and making up your own rules as you go along! Pregnant or not Moira is on Lorne's team until she decides otherwise and I will assign that team and all of its personnel as I see fit!"

"Until she decides, or you decide?" John asked angrily. "And as often as you disregard my authority here it's really funny that you decide suddenly I'm the one who is–"

"I have never disregarded you! And look at the results, John! Shooting one of your own men over a petty infraction! Concealing research from me! Concealing data from me!"

"Shoving my wife is not a petty infraction! And I haven't concealed anything! If you must know you were one of the prime suspects! Directing us away from those planets! Away from finding out that the Ancients aren't the benevolent gods you want them to be!"

"Those planets were not worthy of our resources or manpower! I will make those decisions, John, not you! You are the military commander, that's all! I am the leader of this expedition and it about damn time you recognized that and respected that!"

Moira and Carson exchanged a startled glance. Both stunned by the argument. The rising tension, animosity between the two. "All right, let's just take a breath, shall we?" the doctor suggested, eying each in turn. "I think we all have the best intentions for the city and its inhabitants, now don't we? We just have different ways of going about achieving the same goals. The safety of the city. The pursuit of knowledge, Ancient or otherwise."

"There's no need to argue," Moira agreed, still holding onto John's arm. "I'm sure you can iron out any differences amicably. You both want what's best for the city, for its personnel."

"I'm not so sure, anymore, Moira. I think that John only wants what's best for you. You and the baby you are carrying, to the exclusion of everything and everyone else!" Elizabeth accused. Gaze still locked with John's.

"Damn right I do," John said quietly. Too quietly. Moira could feel the tension in every line of his body. "But I will keep this city and its personnel safe. And not be blinded by the Ancients and their supposedly wondrous virtues."

"I am not blinded by–" Elizabeth began.

"Then what is it? What is blinding you, Elizabeth? We need to search those outer planets! We need all the intel we can gather on the Wraith and whatever else is out there! We need to debunk every romantic notion you have about the Ancients and see what a mess they left behind! We need to explore more of the city and its potential!"

"I couldn't agree more, John! But missions to those planets are a waste of time, resources and manpower! Why can't you see that? What is blinding you? Your overzealous concern about your wife and now your child! If you can't do your job, colonel, then you need to stand down and let someone else manage it! Someone else who wasn't foolish enough to be encumbered by a wife and now an unplanned pregnancy!"

Moira gasped, almost freeing John's arm, but stubbornly retained her hold of it. Of him.

"Ah. Is that it? I see. I can do my job and be happily, so very happily encumbered with my wife and my child. I have a life here, Elizabeth. I have a future here, a future stake in this city that you can't possibly understand, is that it? You have no idea how high the stakes are now because I have a wife, a child on the way! That's it, isn't it? I have made a life for myself out here, a very happy life now out here when you are too afraid to even try!"

Elizabeth stared. It was her turn to gasp. Hands clasped together now. "You, you have no right to say that to me! That is exactly the thing that is blinding you to the more important objectives of this mission!" she flared, his observations hitting a little too close to the mark.

"No, it's opened my eyes to them! In ways you cannot possibly understand!"

"We've all been blinded by this place, of course we have, but we know that the Ancients were as fallible as all of us. All of us," Carson stated firmly, trying to intercede again. To calm the escalating emotions. "After a good night's sleep everything will be clear and calmer."

"It's crystal clear now," John said, voice low.

"Tomorrow morning. Your office. All right?" Moira asked, pulling gently on John's arm.

"Fine. Tomorrow," Elizabeth agreed. Eyes on John who was watching her. Then his wife as she gently tugged his arm. He hadn't moved a muscle.

"John, please. I want something...you know what I really want? Some peanut butter on saltine crackers. With salsa. Do we have that, or something like that? John?" She pulled him from the infirmary. "No. On Doritos! On nacho cheese Doritos. I hope I have some left. I seem to be eating my way through this month, don't I? Bet I could even give Rodney a run for his money. John?"

He was silent, letting her lead him into their quarters. Pulled her gently to face him. Into his arms as he kissed her.

"John?" Moira stared. "Look, John," she touched his chest, splayed her hands on it, "I know you are angry, and you have every right to be. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen! I didn't mean for you to, to shoot someone! I am so sorry! It was my fault! I should have just let them take everything, destroy everything. I shouldn't have put myself into danger, or John junior into danger, you're right, John, I was being reckless! I should have let the research and the lab just go. You could have, you could have made it right again soon enough, I know. I just...I was angry and upset and somehow triggered that force field and then I couldn't stop it! The power...I could feel the power, John! Like you must feel when you access the Chair or fly a Jumper. I could feel it, so strong, responding to me. Well, not to me but to John junior's double, I guess, I don't really know I'm no geneticist but I John please stop me."

He kissed her, tilting her face up to his. A long, slow kiss stopping her words, her anxiety, her fear. Drowning her in love and passion and protection. He freed her mouth. Stroked a stray strand of hair from her face. "I'm not angry. Not with you," he clarified.

"Oh. You, you shouldn't be angry with, with Weir. Or, or yourself, John, for, for–"

"No. No more, Moira. No more." He guided her to the bed. "Sit. Now, what is it that you wanted? Saltine crackers and peanut butter? No, Doritos, peanut butter and salsa?" He made a face. "Seriously?"

She smiled at his expression, but grew somber. "No more what, John?"

He licked his lips, watching her. Placed his hands on his hips, as if he was going to lecture her. "No more, Moira. I think we've had enough, don't you?"

His voice was gentle. Still Moira stared, tensing. "Enough of what, John? Sex?"

He smiled. "No, baby, we can never have enough of that, don't you worry. No, not that." He sighed. "Fuck, I could use a beer. Then some kinky sex. But I'll get your chips and peanut butter first. Hmm...we might need the peanut butter for later, though. But not the salsa."

"John! What is it? Oh no, oh no! What have you decided? You have that look!" She stood. "John? You, you aren't sending me away! You are not sending me to Earth! You gave your word to me! You gave your–"

"No, Moira, I am not sending you to Earth," he assured, stepping to slide his arms around her. "I gave you my word. No, not that." He kissed her. "But I have decided. Now, let me get your weird food and a beer for me and then we can have a sweet little–"

"John! What have you decided?" she snapped. Hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

He smiled. "I've decided let's skip the rest and just fuck our brains out," he teased. Kissed her, pulling her against him.

Moira pushed back, flustered. "John! Damn it! What have you decided? To divorce me?"

"Yeah, that's it, baby." He rolled his eyes. "You're not getting rid of me that easily. Hell, no. You are mine and so is that baby you are carrying." He kissed her again. A slow, languorous kiss that took her breath away. That parlayed the anger into passion. Annoyance into desire. Coalesced doubts into certainties. "And so is this fucking city."


End file.
